Dear New Widow, I am so sorry that this loss of your husband has happened. I am sorry for all the pain and all the many long days ahead for you. I am sorry that life involves losing ...
Whiskeytown Lake at sunset. It’s been almost seven years since Jay passed. Life looks nothing like it did. I’ve lived in five different states, worked in the public sector, higher education, the medical field, and currently I write for a ...
Those trusty Facebook Memories hit me upside the head again today. These were really good memories, though; it wasn't anything that should've been upsetting. It was a recollection, rather, of how I was feeling during that good time. Sure, I ...
I’ve been under the weather for a couple of weeks, so I’ve had a lot of time to sit around reading and watching TikToks. I can’t recall now what I was reading, but something jumped out at me, a term ...
Loss has many faces. I thought it was just my husband’s face—the man I love and miss so dearly. It turns out loss is so much more. It’s the faces of those who left to join him—in my case… my ...
The Things I Leave Untouched Since my husband died suddenly in August 2021, I've intentionally avoided many specific things—people, restaurants, songs, TV shows, entire neighborhoods, and even certain highways and streets. It feels as though all of those things died ...
Not all that long ago, I was told by a co-worker, in so many words, that my positivity is "too much" for him. "I don't need you to be so positive around me," he said. I was almost speechless for ...
After becoming widowed, I realized I was mourning a lot more than the death of my husband. I was mourning the other things that he and his mental illness took from me. Yes, my husband took a lot from me, ...
A few days ago, an acquaintance at church made small talk with me: “How’s life?” And I expected to feel all the normal rage that question elicits for us grievers. You know what I mean. We are the humans donning ...
The ache of compounded grief in widowhood is a particular kind of brutal. You thought you already did the hardest part. The early days—the raw, suffocating shock, the nights where breathing itself felt like betrayal, the way the world kept ...