Pain Menu

Pain menu

Which memory shall I select? What will bring on the tears?
You at the end? Hooked to monitors, breathing by machine?

You at the beginning? Our first date? Our first kiss?

Or the many options from the 21 years in between?

The memory selection is endless. The choices are triggered with little to no effort.

Choose one, name … Read the blog

Friday, work at home day

You’re supposed to be in the next room.

It’s Friday, work at home day. We’re supposed to chatter back and forth all day, you in your office across the hall, me in mine.

But it’s silent.

I can’t hear your big fingers clacking away at the keyboard – the fastest hunt and peck typing I’ve ever heard.
I can’t hear Read the blog

We did everything together

We did everything together.

I sit here mourning your death, and I think, who would understand this pain? We did everything together. Since you retired in 2011, you’d drive me to work in the morning, pick me up and take me to lunch, then pick me up and take me home.

On Fridays, I worked from my home office, and … Read the blog

Once You Got the Death Sentence

Once you got the death sentence, you said there was nothing we could do about it.

But you didn’t die that Christmas, and you didn’t die that spring.

And we got Christmas with the family.
And we got spring in Florida.
And – in between hospital visits – we got summer at home.

We got time with friends.
We got Read the blog

Our House

This is our house.

You planted these ficas in the front yard. You built these wooden pillars to cover the old colonial ones. You carried this bench to the front porch – the one that we brought from our home in Maryland. You cut this grass. You put in the new front door, and put up the new accent lights … Read the blog