AKA "The Writing Woman"
After more than a year of coming to terms with Rick’s death, today I came to realize that grieving is just a long-running battle with the words I tell myself in my head. There’s a voice in a continuously running monologue that tells me things that I need to either heed or ignore, words to believe or recognize as a … 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