National Widow’s Day is May 3rd. For many, this day is insignificant. Just another national day on the calendar. But for the 3.48 million widowed men and 11.27 million widowed women living in the US, it is significant. ...
I brought a plant. Well, I actually brought a hanging outdoor plant. While this act may not be worth celebrating to you, it was a big deal to me. You see, for the past 6 years I have not purchased ...
This Saturday was National Husband Appreciation Day. It was a day I want to celebrate. It is also a day that left me feeling very torn. As a remarried widow, I want to sing the praises of my new husband. ...
Three years ago, I attended a workshop at Camp Widow that was monumental in my healing. Changed the course of my grief journey. Helped me to embrace the me I was becoming after loss. For that workshop, we had ...
So many thoughts ran through my head during those first couple of years after Dave died in his sleep in 2011. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that a 46-year-old healthy guy would just die so suddenly. I ...
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 ...
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 ...
Watching TV can be a minefield for widows. I noticed this soon after I lost my husband; we were in the last season of The Sopranos. I could never make myself finish it after his death. But, I kept thinking ...
Does the pain ever go away? Is it OK to start dating? When will I feel better? These were the burning questions I had during those first 2 years after Dave died. And I wish I had all the best answers, ...
Today I saw a memory post that reminded me of an incident a few years ago. Something simple, that sent me down the rabbit hole of grief. Four years ago, my son came out to tell me his bathroom ...