There are sacred places.  

Places that were mine and Jared’s.

Places we made forever memories.  

Places that I have not visited since his death. 

Places I may never visit again.


Although I think someday I would like to revisit those special places. I just can’t do it yet. Right now I can’t imagine sharing them with anyone except my son.


Do all widows have these places?


And then there are places that were mine and Jared’s that I have shared with my new husband. 

Places where Jon helps me honor the past as we make new memories.. 

Places were my past and present intersect to build my future. 


Do all widows have these places?


I don’t know why I can share certain places with my new husband and not others.

Why some places are best left in my memories.

And others are meant to be rediscovered. 


Every year Jared and I would take our son to the beach for a week. It was a tradition we started when our son was just a toddler. And one we continued until Jared died. My son and I continue the tradition to this day. And the second summer after I met my new husband, I invited him and his daughter to join us. 


It was tough at first. Inviting them to share this special place. My new husband understood how torn I felt. Caught between my past and my future.  Sharing my past at the same time building a future. He did his best to put me at ease. Give me space when I needed it. And now it’s become our family tradition. My past and my future.  Making memories with my loved ones at our special beach.


Jared and I went to Italy for our honeymoon and had our marriage blessed by Pope John Paul II.  17 years later I visited Rome and Vatican City with my new husband and our children visited. I remember the surge of emotions as I entered St Peter’s Basilica. The tears that ran down my face as we listened to mass. Feeling Jared and his love to the depths of my soul. My new husband holding my hand as I grieved for my late husband.  My past intersecting with my future. A special place I never thought I would share with another man.  And yet I did.  And despite the tears, I enjoyed the trip. I can smile at memories of my honeymoon with Jared and those with Jon.  I think that is a sign I’m healing.


Do all widows feel like this?


And yet I can’t imagine taking my new husband to Paris, Greece, Kauai, or Oahu.  Those were the last places we visited during the last few months Jared was alive. Those places are still sacred. Not yet ready to be shared.  And I’m not sure they ever will be. 


Do all widows feel like this?


There are some places that are sacred.

Not yet ready to be shared.

And that is ok.

Healing takes time.

And maybe in time, I’ll share these sacred places. 

And maybe I won’t.

And that is ok.



Carla always knew she would be a widow but didn’t have any idea how it would actually feel. When Carla met her late husband Jared, he was waiting for a lung transplant due to Cystic Fibrosis, a chronic disease affecting the lungs and pancreas. So she knew that most likely someday she would say goodbye to her husband. But she never dreamt it would be exactly one week before their 14th wedding anniversary. In August 2014, Jared was diagnosed with a rare bacterial infection in his transplanted lung and was expected to survive at least 6 months if not a year. Instead, he died just 6 weeks later. And in the blink of an eye, Carla became a solo mom to their 10-year-old son. And even though her life was forever marked before and after, she was determined to live life to the fullest because her husband would expect no less.

She founded Breathing for Jared, a Foundation to provide college scholarships to those suffering from lung disease in honor of her late husband. Became a supporter of the CF Foundation and Donate Life. And discovered that writing out her emotions and fears on her blog Transplant Wife and Widow helped her to process her grief

Carla recently remarried and is now blending a family with her new husband, bonus daughter, and son.