Grief. Love. Magic. A new road. A new life~
I guess one of the fallouts of living in the widow hood, is that we end up in our heads way too frequently, asking questions of ourselves, and of life, about life, ruminating on life in general.
The inside of my brain is a continual hamster wheel.
These are some of the things I wonder, the questions I ask, of myself. Mostly rhetorically, because as soon as I find one answer, I ask another question within that answer.Read more
Words. I think about words in this widowed life.
How can I, how do I, describe this widow life?
What word best describes this widow life?
It’s difficult to find that one word, isn’t it, because there are so damn many that apply, to this widow life.
Dislocated. Discombobulated (that’s my fave), disoriented, disengaged, disturbed, disconnected, disrupted, displaced, disorganized.
Clearly, I like words that begin with the letter D.
Also, one C word works well. Confused.Read more