I attended a writers’ conference two weeks ago. I’m still working (reworking) my plans for life without Rick after retirement. We had big plans. We started our web design business in 2001 with the goal of having plenty of work that we could enjoy doing together remotely from our favorite spot in Florida half the year, and back near our … Read the blog
Every morning I read a list of fifty things I have to be thankful for. I started doing this a few months ago; it was something my grief therapist suggested to help me get through the uncertainty and loneliness of life during the pandemic. Yes, I am still seeing a grief counselor, although, at this point, it’s not to help … Read the blog
FLOWERS FOR NO REASON
My life went on without you
I’ve lived through every season
But since you died, the thing I miss
Is flowers for no reason
These Hallmark Holidays, you claimed,
Were not what proved devotion
It was the times lived in between…
Vacations near the ocean
Or evenings on our backyard deck
And private jokes we shared… Read the blog
I’ve been thinking lately that I don’t really identify as a widow much anymore. In two months, Rick will have been gone three years. I don’t know how that’s possible, but it’s true. I have carved out a new life without him, and it’s a full one. My home looks different, my routine is different, and I’m used to sleeping … Read the blog
It’s the beginning of my eighth week of isolation – quarantining during the coronavirus pandemic. It’s a beautiful sunny day in Michigan. I can finally see summer around the corner! My mood is as sunny as the day, because I’m getting ready to visit my two youngest grandsons.
This decision wasn’t made lightly. My son, daughter-in-law, and I have weighed … Read the blog
I’m a hugger. A cuddler. A squeezer.
Touching and affection are powerfully important elements that keep me happy, sane, and functioning. I know I’m not alone in this. Quarantining is wreaking havoc with the psyches of many of us who are stuck in our homes by ourselves, with no outlet for our love and affection.
Missing Rick’s hugs – his … Read the blog
My friend Jo sent me a Facebook memory. Three years ago today, I was with Rick on the Florida gulf. We were sitting with Jo watching a gorgeous sunset in Rick’s favorite spot on Madeira Beach. I sat staring at the photo, unable to remember exactly how I felt that evening. Despite the beauty of the sunset, I know I … Read the blog
The overhead lights in the hallway started flickering again a couple of weeks ago. This hasn’t happened in a while, not a long while. When Rick first died, the ceiling lights in the kitchen started to flicker one night. I was washing dishes and could see them flickering out of the corner of my eye, but, oddly, when I looked … Read the blog
My years as a married woman continue to fade into the past and I’ve become accustomed to being single again. I no longer expect Rick to be here when I get home. I can’t count on him for the numerous things I used to: cooking for me, lifting heavy objects, cuddling, dancing. He’s no longer here to listen while I … Read the blog
So often now, in the midst of happiness, I’ll feel this gloom settle over me. I know right away that it’s not a “random” sadness; it’s definitely Rick-related. I feel those tears just below the surface, a very mild form of the horrible grief I had shortly after losing him, but it builds every day and it starts to intrude … Read the blog