AKA "The Writing Woman"
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
When Rick died suddenly last August, my son Brandon and his wife Lindsey were forced to quickly research the best way to handle explaining his death to my then 2 ½-year-old grandson, Jonas. They didn’t want to confuse him by telling him that his Papa “went away,” because he might think Papa was coming back. They knew he was too … 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’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
I cried when I first changed our bed sheets
But any trace of your scent was long gone
I’ve accepted you aren’t coming back
But it’s still very hard to move on
Your things are still just where you left them
On the table right next to the bed
The last glass you drank from still sits there
And there’s … Read the blog
I see the tulips in our yard
And I remember
When I used to be excited about spring
Spring meant summer was near
And summer meant time outside with you
Days frolicking in the sun
Evenings lounging in the sultry heat out in our yard
Me swatting mosquitoes
You not
Smells and sounds of summer
The scent of chicken on … Read the blog
Why does it hit so hard sometimes? I move along, I feel myself starting to heal – just a little, and then I’m blindsided with a grief so fresh it feels like he died yesterday.
It’s 8 and ½ months today. My heart was shattered on an August Sunday nearly nine months ago. Sometimes it seems like yesterday that he … Read the blog
It’s all just attempts at distraction.
All day long every day.
Each hour brings a wrong note – discord and strife because nothing is the way it’s supposed to be.
The clock ticks and each moment reminds me of what I lost. All day, my rhythms are off. All day, every day, is wrong, soul-jarringly wrong.
Each second reminds me … Read the blog
The wind blows and your spirit speaks to me
From the chimes
under the gazebo
out on our deck
When I put your ashes inside (a little teaspoon of you)
I had no idea
How your memory
would resonate with each sound
throughout my days
and my nights
With a gentle nudge upon every breeze
Each chord brings
a soft … Read the blog