Year two, I'm swimming along and then it hit. A tsunami of grief and I began to drown. Fear was hovering around me like a vulture waiting for its prey to die. Thoughts began filtering in and out of ...
They were right. The second year of grief is worse. No longer in shock, no longer drowning in tears. I’m no longer numb to my new reality. The hurt runs deeper, it cuts more. I’ll have flashbacks of the first ...
Next month will be a year that Jerry is gone. I am going through this month keeping busy subconsciously, because I think I need to avoid the triggers. It was this month last year that Chemotherapy started, and how horrible ...
Cam was the one who taught me how to peel oranges. I remember spending an entire weekend at his Dad’s doing nothing but having orange peel offs. Our hands smelled of citrus for weeks. Honestly he always had a slight ...
Holidays are heavy. From the weight of finding a perfect gift to the weight we gain over the season. There is no escape. Parties, season’s greetings, happy families on cards in coordinating outfits, holiday music starting in October. Loud, jolly, ...
I’m trying to decide if I’m lovable…What a weird concept right? When I say that though it’s not like I don’t have friends or I don’t have family that cares about me. I do. I have all of that. I ...
Baby steps. Open your eyes. That’s one. Get out of bed. That’s two. Breathe. That’s three. This is how it has to be in the beginning. Gentle and unassuming because grief is not. The cycle is exhausting, it tries to ...
“Mommy, there are pilots at the door.” Those seven words, those simple syllables, they changed everything. When I came to, I made the necessary phone calls, at first it came out as a whisper and ...
I am you. I understand you. My heart has been broken and repaired and broken again. I know you are scared. I know there are days so dark you think the sun has ...
I instantly recognized the masturbating woman in my husband’s saved email file. I could hear her children playing in the next room. I could see her wedding photos on the wall behind the bed she was lying (and sometimes bent over) on. I admired her bed frame as she began moaning my husband’s name. ...