My husband’s 3rd angelversary was last week. My capsized heart still cannot grasp the flood of pain that engulfs me each day. It truly feels like it was just yesterday that I kissed his lips and held his hands for ...
Before I became a widow, I never would have comprehended or fathomed all the secondary, unspoken losses that some widows are forced to endure and navigate amidst all consuming grief. Have you experienced secondary losses? Since the life altering moment ...
Last week as I attempted to sort through my old clothes, I came across a top that had the Esprit logo printed on it. I had modeled this garment years ago in a fashion show. It was one of my ...
Feb 14, 2012 was my beloved husband’s last day at home. He was in the cancer unit most of January, all but a few days in February, and the entire month of March leading up to his demise. That morning, ...
The first time that I was unwillingly forced to go through my husband’s belongings was shortly after his untimely death. Amidst my brutal weeping and frazzled state of shock, the hospital staff nudged me to proceed forward with preparations as ...
The steadfast, champion hands that tenderly, passionately and protectively held mine for 24 years, turned blue, cold and limp in mine. As I fumbled out of the hospital room, fragmented conversations of sympathy from loved ones swirled in my head. ...
In the midst of my husband’s valiant battle with rampant, widespread cancer and unbearable pain that dominated his body and mind, we were given gifts. Gifts that eluded me; gifts that now, in hindsight, I see as priceless gems and ...
The first Christmas after my husband’s passing, I felt numb, in disbelief, engulfed in sorrow, and oh so alone. I attempted to put on my mask and proceed forward for my daughters’ well-being. However, isolation seemed to grasp me as the ...
During this time of hustle and bustle and the most wonderful time of the year, my widow’s spirit is not as jolly or as calm and bright as it used to be. Christmas seems to spur on a tangled web ...
From the harrowing moment my husband was diagnosed with cancer, my inner voice rang out incessantly with the following permeating words, “My hope is in the Lord: a miracle will come.” Despite his prognosis, for nine months, this became my ...