• commented on Having All Your Birthdays in One Day 2018-03-22 10:56:48 -0700
    Staci, Wishing you strength and love today.

  • commented on This Particular and Peculiar Sense of Non-being~ 2018-03-10 12:09:09 -0800
    Oh my gosh, thank you for this post! Sixteen months in now, I feel like the awkwardness and socially ineptness is only getting worse, not better! It’s scary. At least, in the beginning, after my husband passed, I think I had more memory of how to be, and act, and had better memories of who I was, and a stronger sense of self, just because it (I) was all fresher in my mind. As time goes on, I feel like my sense of self has gotten weaker, and it all gets more awkward, and painful. I feel like my self-esteem, not predicated upon being married to the greatest guy that ever lived, and loved like I didn’t know was possible to feel, has plummeted to the depths of not knowing what to be predicated on, anymore. I alternate from being very overly confident in social situations, to painfully insecure, and beating myself up endlessly for decisions and words created without a guidebook on how to be in the world afresh now, and now I question who I am (maybe, just maybe, that’s the point of it all, which is my only light in the tunnel of this darkness). Though I do grow concerned if I am being judged or disliked, as they can’t possibly know the knife of loneliness, and aloneness, we feel, that it’s all based on. I guess our loved ones will just have to keep on loving us through this, and we, ourselves. It’s not easy stuff we tackle.

  • commented on Vacation 2018-03-08 09:12:34 -0800
    Oh my gosh, Olivia, you have written so beautifully about what it is SO like for us, for me since my husband died, the mix of complicated emotions at every moment. Also, my biggest fear is that it will ALWAYS be like this, for the rest of my life. Will happiness always be laced with sadness, missing them, anger they’re not here, hurt at seeing reminders everywhere of what we’ve lost, all mixed in with a beautiful day, or happy or laughing moments? It just makes me want to break down thinking about it. How to make sense out of all of it. But maybe we can all sort it out together. Keep us posted on how you translate it all into a beautiful trip. April

  • commented on Malbec Part 2 2018-03-06 16:00:42 -0800
    Hi Staci, I read this yesterday, and it was so helpful. I’ve had Rumi’s quote up on my fridge for weeks. I just wanted to inhale his words into my soul, so the words would become true for me all the time, but I didn’t know how to feel his words for longer than a few moments. But your post gave me an idea, as I loved those lines, “Mike is so far beyond nothing. He is now everything”. Yesterday, I focused on knowing that he was everywhere I went, everywhere I looked, he was there in that moment. That he is IN the wind, the sun, the trees, the air, the clouds, and in every speck of beauty. He IS the beauty, the wind, the sun, the trees, the sky, the clouds. He, his love, was EVERYWHERE I looked, everything I saw. And it lasted all day. It was such a high, I couldn’t even fall asleep. Sometimes, something like that where I try to change my perspective, is short-lived. But not yesterday. I think it helped to use physical senses to make that bridge to a more spiritual connection… Today, some of the emptiness is back, but not as profoundly. I still have some of the high. I will always keep at it, till it’s “normal”! Anyway, I just wanted to share my experience in case it helps, and say thank you! We are similar, or parallel, in our journeys in some ways, as I saw in your previous post, that my husband passed away only 20 days before yours.

  • commented on Coming Along for the Ride 2018-03-04 11:57:25 -0800
    Kelley, thank you for this incredibly powerful post. Powerful in many ways, but especially in a HEALING way.
    That’s really everything, isn’t it? Knowing that they are always moving WITH us. Never us moving on, or away FROM them.
    I especially love that line, “He will never leave me again.”
    Maybe, just maybe we have it all backwards. We think they LEFT us, and we feel abandoned and alone. But I think, sometimes, nothing could be further from the truth. It’s actually the complete opposite, I think.
    I can stay in that knowing for a while, as my soul basks in the truth, completely utterly relaxed and at peace. And I know that it’s the truth because of how I feel, and that feeling can’t be faked, or come from imaginings, or wishful thinking. It’s my soul, knowing, remembering, for me.
    But then, womp, I’m in the depths of despair, of aloneness, and abandonedness, again.
    I LOVE your yellow truck signs. My signs have followed me from my old home to my new home, and new work, as well. I have new address labels sent in the mail from some organization, with his name on them. I see them, and think, yup, it’s true.
    I love your post, because I love being reminded of what is the truth. If I could just stay in that KNOWING all the time. Thank you for the reminder.

  • commented on All Paths Lead Somewhere 2018-03-03 11:11:52 -0800
    Gabe, I love these lines: “Sometimes I have to be still for a moment and realize that I’m moving forward, despite the fact I can see nothing in front of me. It can be discouraging when you can’t see the destination.” This beautifully sums up life for us in grieving, doesn’t it? I will focus on this feeling all day, and just try to be okay with it. Thank you.

  • commented on The Power of This 4 Letter Word~ 2018-03-02 16:38:33 -0800
    Alison, Thank you for this. I really needed this today. I really needed something that would or could soothe my aching heart. That’s a tall order. But that line, ‘loving you, my beloved, was worth all that is my now’…. Amazingly, it jolted me out of my self-pity into gratitude. I am so lucky to be so grateful for what I had, for what we had. That line reminded me that not all have, or had, or will ever have, what I have had. And this deep gnashing pain is BECAUSE of what I had. Thank you for the reminder. The only reminder, I think, that can help me on days like this. Of course, not soon after, my gratitude- my deep deep gratitude- visits me, I am reminded of those couples who have what we had for many years longer than 13 years. And my self-pity starts up again. But then again, not everyone has it for even one day, so how lucky was I, and how lucky were we, to have it for 13 years? Thanks again for reminding me. Because everything I had with him IS worth it, this pain I never knew could hurt so badly.

  • commented on Indifference 2018-03-02 13:03:42 -0800
    Gabe, I can so relate to the indifference. I feel it daily, even just about living, these past 16 months. But in reading your post, it seems suddenly like it might and must be healthy to just feel it and admit it. Because it does when you talk about it. Thanks for helping me identify the feeling and accept it. Be okay with it for now, and not chastise myself for it. It is what it is. It is what I feel. Daily. Moment to moment. Broken up by moments that mean something to me. Gratitude. Grief. Moments of joy. That pass. We are OK, just the way we are, just the way we feel. Thanks for identifying the feeling, and holding it up, and processing it for us all.

  • commented on Its Your Birthday, My Heart and Back Know 2018-03-02 12:38:10 -0800
    Kelley, This post is so amazing to me. Add to that list of what you are now is teacher. A teacher of grief. I learned so many things in this article about HOW to grieve. Thank you. For one, I don’t feel my feelings enough, or try to process them through writing, enough. I want to trade my low-, or not so low-grade depression, and numbness, and faking it, for more feeling, processing, writing. I also love your use of the word horrific. That helps me name a feeling I have had for 16 months now, but did not want to name; it did not help me to not name it. Last but not least, thank you for helping me get out a great cry. For the husband that saved me, and without whom I feel like I am drowning and cannot save myself. But like you said, I do want to, for him, and for me. He did teach me how to save myself somehow, through 13 years of presence, commitment, love, and daily words of encouragement. And because of that I will and can keep learning from him, everyday. I know the first three things are still there in the same, but unseen, form, I just have to learn to live without the last one, at least in the way I knew before. Which I am so grateful for, it’s just easier said than done.

  • commented on Malbec 2018-02-28 13:57:42 -0800
    this is beautiful. Your writing is so beautiful. your words touched my heart in a way that is just what I needed today. this lonely winter afternoon, knowing I can’t just call him and hear his voice, his love for me, for us, for our togetherness, in this world. your writing feels so cathartic for me. so real. so on target. it touched my soul and gave me words and images for feelings and thoughts that i often cannot name or articulate. thank you so much.

  • commented on Resentment and PTSD 2018-02-28 07:12:10 -0800
    Kelley, I like the way you have felt all your feelings lately, that is inspirational to me. Not an easy task! Thanks for sharing them, we can all relate, and feel the dichotomy of happy and sad you have so eloquently written.