AKA "The Writing Woman"
It’s tough to go on vacations now…too much time to think. I’m up north at the family cottage for two weeks, and the weather is beautiful. I have nothing to do but bask in the sun, play with the grandkids on the sandy beach of Lake Huron, enjoy time with my family, and take in the beauty of these natural … Read the blog
Dear Rick,
It’s been nearly a year since you died. Does that mean I should be getting over the grief by now? Should I be capable of moving on in my “new” life without you?
In antiquated terms, is it almost time for me to remove my widow’s weeds?
Almost a year…it will be eleven months next week. Remember when … Read the blog
As widowed life becomes “normal,” not every morning is horrible anymore. It used to be – a few short months ago – that the bravest thing I’ve ever done was to get out of bed in the morning and face the day ahead.
In the first month or two after Rick died, I was in some type of fugue state. … Read the blog
One of the most difficult and unexpected things I’ve had to cope with in this grieving process is getting used to the quiet, the deafening quiet.
I miss the groans he emitted as he arose from his chair or sat down again – or as he loudly clomped up the basement stairs after getting a can of something from the … Read the blog
I was running late this morning (nothing new about that). But today I was particularly late, and at the time I got in my car and started it up, I’m usually already sitting at my desk at work. I wouldn’t normally have been in the car when this song was playing.
Timing is everything.
So I started my car, and … Read the blog
I feel like I’m at some weird crossroads in my life: the intersection of clinging to my life with Rick and forging on to my solo life ahead. My head is filled with conflicting thoughts. The pain, the grief has lessened (most days), and I’ve realized that by living without Rick for nearly ten months, I now feel more like … Read the blog
As someone who has now survived nine months of widowhood, I decided to extend a lifeline of hope for anyone who’s in the first few month of grieving. It’s a surprising realization and something that occurred to me only this morning:
It gets better.
I never would have believed it in the early days – the days, weeks, and months … Read the blog
Serenity was a long holiday weekend.
Me floating in my pool
You, off riding your bicycle
Quiet, stillness, lassitude
Relaxed in the giant float I bought on Amazon
Peace and tranquility
Summer and heat and happiness
Floating, floating, floating
Staring up at the blue sky
Leaves and squirrels rustling in the trees
Pure bliss
Alone, yet not lonely
Alive and … Read the blog
I want to keep you alive
I look around me and I see that there’s no way to keep you here, but I’m trying. Life shouts at me, Move on. Move on. Move on…but I don’t want to if that means leaving you behind.
I know I can’t bring you back. I hate that I couldn’t save you, that I … Read the blog
I’m sitting alone in the booth at the Coney restaurant. I thought I was used to it by now. I thought nearly nine months without you had inured me to eating alone, sleeping alone, existing alone.
But perhaps not.
I miss so much about you and our time together, but I miss chatting with you the most. I want to … Read the blog