Grief | Grieving | Death of a Child

Happy New Year! Yeah, I know. You’re thinking what’s with this writer? Life sucks without Him by your side. How dare she use the H word and wish me a Happy New Year.

Well, I feel your pain. Really, I do, because I am a widow, too. But, I’m here to tell you, everything will be alright. No, it won’t be like it was before He left. But yes, you can and you will get through 2007–With a smile. Read the rest of this entry »

At the end of a good day you bust out crying for no particular reason.

At the end of a bad day you burst out laughing for no particular reason.

At the end of everyday, you crawl into bed and sleep on His side.

You refuse to throw away His toothbrush, His razor, His bar of soap. Because you think He’ll need them. Read the rest of this entry »

If you are reading this then something terrible has happened. First let me offer my condolences. As Joan Didion says, “Life changes fast.” Next let me extend a heartfelt welcome. You are now a member of an exclusive club — the club nobody wants to be a member of. And though your world’s turned upside down, already you’re asking questions: “How will I cope? Will things be alright? And oh yeah, Can I please have my husband back?” Read the rest of this entry »

Is it possible to mourn the loss of a beloved spouse and, while still grieving, to not only meet someone special, but fall in love and begin to build a new relationship

Is it possible to mourn the loss of a beloved spouse and, while still grieving, to not only meet someone special, but fall in love and begin to build a new relationship that includes a commitment to sharing your lives? Can we overlap our loving and our grieving? The answer is a Read the rest of this entry »

We are alone. And we worry about that.
We worry we will die alone.

We buried our life partner. And now we worry about who will bury us?
Who will walk our dogs, who will feed our cats when we’re gone? Read the rest of this entry »

You’re home now — From the cemetery — Just closed the door on an endless line of well-wishing-filled-with-advice strangers who didn’t know what to say but talked endlessly anyway, and now that they’re gone you know you will never see or hear from most of them ever again.

Your hair smells of roses and gladioli and you secretly wish for a giant eraser to erase all the pain.

You’ve just buried your life partner; your husband, your best friend. As Joan Didion says, “Life changes fast.” Read the rest of this entry »

After my husband died, I trashed my writing — Journals — An accumulation of spiral bound notebooks, one for each month of each year for four years. And a YA novel manuscript I was working on.

I blamed my husband’s dying on my writing.

I told myself, Self, if you hadn’t spent so much time writing, you might have noticed your husband was sick. Read the rest of this entry »

The funeral is over.

You’ve written ten thousand checks, signed your name ten thousand times to ten thousand thank you notes, and ten thousand times you wished you were dead.

The sight of your mailman, FTD, and friendly neighbor reduces you to tears. Read the rest of this entry »

We want our husbands back.

We don’t want your husband, your son, your father, your grandfather, or your cousin’s next door neighbor’s husband, her son, her father, or her grandfather.

If we ask the simple question, “how is he doing” That’s all we mean. We may not want to be alone, but we never want to wreck a home. Read the rest of this entry »

We are women left.

We experienced the best of times; The worst of times. And survived.

We discovered the meaning of life — Nothing like the loss of a spouse to wake us up to that. Read the rest of this entry »