AKA "The Writing Woman"
I reported for jury duty a couple weeks ago. It’s probably my tenth time in the past 45 years since I was first summoned in my early twenties. However, this was the first time I’ve served that we were allowed to bring cell phones into the courthouse. Quite a perk! Other years, I was in…
Every now and then I hear one of those old songs from the 1940s that my parents used to listen to, and – wow – do those lyrics hit! The other night, as I lay awake in bed (as usual), I remembered the lyrics of “There Will Never Be Another You”: There will be many…
As the sixth anniversary of Rick’s death approaches, I realize I’ve had many shifts in my attitude about how I view my life here alone. For about the first two years, my whole identity was that of a widow. I was still part of a couple, one of us just wasn’t living. I continued to…
The Golden Years I never thought I’d be alone In the golden years… This stage of life we longed for Retired from the nine to five drudge Free to do anything we wanted. When we looked towards the future, we saw beaches and travel More of this! We said, when we took that three-week trip…
In October 2006, we found this house. It was a beautiful, quiet setting on a dead-end street. We had been considering a different house, but we came to look at this house one more time. When we saw it with the leaves turning color and the autumn light and smells all around us, we knew…
The bright, hot sun is beating on my back. The waves of Lake Huron are washing rhythmically against the shore. The sky is blue and nearly cloudless. I put aside my literary magazine to drink it all in: the sun, the breeze, the sand, the summer. “This is the life, Rick Roy,” I say to…
This past Tuesday was our 25th wedding anniversary and I celebrated alone, sitting under the windchimes in my gazebo. A small portion of Rick’s ashes are in the chimes, so I always feel like he’s with me when I sit there. It was his favorite place to sit in the evenings, so I thought it…
The impact of Rick’s death has lessened as the years go by. That’s only natural. I’ve always been a firm believer that time really does heal all wounds, although not as quickly as we would like (and I definitely formed that opinion before experiencing widowhood). But certainly the enormous and raw pain I felt daily…
The first year or two after losing Rick, every memory that popped into my mind was an emotional trigger that sometimes made me sob, and other times just brought on some quiet tears. The trick was learning to handle these moments because you never knew where or when they were going to hit. It wasn’t…
This past week, I was up at our cottage in northern Michigan, and I joined the family at nearby Ocqueoc Falls. Rick used to make fun of the falls. When I first took him there, he kept laughing as he watched the water cascading across the large stones, and finally he asked, “Well, where are…