Tonight, I went to the Candlelight service at my church. I have been attending church via zoom since the pandemic started and last year was not in a place mentally to go to candlelight. Stepping back into the church I ...
Christmas is typically my favorite time of the year. Even in my darkest days of grief, I could look at the lights on the tree, the years of memory ornaments and find some peace. This year has been so ...
What is your thought process when you add the numbers 23 and 37 together? Some will say that 3+7 is 10, 20+30 is 50, and 50+10=60. Others will count up from 23 by 10’s three times (23…33, 43, 53) and ...
I feel as though every widow who writes about this time of year writes about the gut punch that is the holiday season without their beloved, and while that’s a deep and visceral truth that I too experience, I thought ...
This second Holiday Season is harder than the first. Last year I traveled to Tampa, so it wasn’t like I was in familiar territory trying to keep up Christmas traditions. This year I’m living in Tampa and decided I wanted ...
Planning a Future I guess that saying “If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans” was true for me. When I got married, I was twenty-five and I was not ready to have a child I was ...
When you're a widow, the traditional Holidays, can feel more like a"Holidaze". Yes, that spelling is intentional, because sometimes it can really feel like you're just walking around in a daze. At least that's how it was for me, and ...
Grief knows no bounds. It can be triggered when you least expect it, although most triggers are obvious and predictable. After Rick's death, I knew going into a diner, Home Depot, or Costo would be painful. I knew vacationing without ...
Better…That is a loaded word for me. I am doing better than last year, I am still broken but I can see what my future looks like again. This month my writing your grief prompt focused on what does better ...
This year will mark eight Christmases that we have spent without Jared. Eight years that we have hung his memory on the tree. Eight years that we have filled his stocking with love instead of presents. Eight years. It ...