A part of me surely died the same day as my late husband. Most widows would probably say the same thing. When you spend so much time wrapping your life around someone else, it takes a while to unravel yourself ...
CW: Suicide/Suicide methods My husband died by suicide. All loss is painful, all deaths break hearts. Deaths by suicide, however, are more than painful; they are also taboo. I am nearly five out from that utterly devastating day and in ...
I remember the early days after my husband's death when I longed for a dream of him or any sign that he was still around. I have always had intense dreams about my departed loved ones and usually consider them ...
One unexpected facet of grief that I didn't know that I would experience was how our pets must've felt after my husband's sudden death. I am sure many might say that pets aren't something one should be worrying about in ...
Several years ago I learned about International Widow's Day (June 23rd), a day set aside to recognize the hardships that widows face from loss, that fell one day after National Onion Rings Day. Even after becoming a widow in December ...
I met him when I was 26 years old and we married at 28. By 42, I was a suicide widow and single mom to two children. Post-loss, I found healing in somatic and family therapy, yoga, meditation and other ...
As I was making a left turn behind an unusually slow moving car, I gripped my steering wheel agitatedly and blurted out, "Why are you driving so slow?! You're stopping the flow of traffic. UGH!" And then I saw it. ...
I thought the night Todd died would be rock bottom. I remember looking at the ceiling as if God was up there and He would change what I already knew in my soul: Todd was dead. He’d been in the ...
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. ...
It was the second July since my husband John's suicide and my first July living in San Diego. My best friend since teenage-hood, Lynnette and I were desperate to get away from our five children. We had recently become roommates ...