Like Matt, I realize I need to start from the beginning. Art and I were married for 14 years. We have three children. On August 24, 2006 he was diagnosed with Large B Cell Lymphoma, Stage IV, primarily in his lungs. He was an athlete. In March 2007 we were told he was in remission.
We lived apprehensively at first, always fighting right before he had to have tests. Always making love the night before his appointment because we knew he was clear. (Doctors really don't call with good news!)
On January 12, 2009, less than two years of being cancer free, it was discovered that the cancer had returned and was stage IV.Read more
Michael and I always wanted to see the world with each other.
We had it all planned out. After he and I graduated, we would go to Europe and start our travels. From Greece to tropical terrains, we'd see it all (leaving a few places for after retirement) and then head back and start our family.
If I take an inventory of all of Jeff's things that I have clung to, stored for safe keeping or discarded since he died, I realize that to an outsider, these items would seem like random detritus. Debris. Maybe even junk.
I have managed to let go of many of his 'collections'. The plastic Stanley Cups he collected from some fastfood restaurant. A couple of his hats. A few nicknacks.
But there are items that I look at and wonder at the strange eccentricity of my sentimentality.
Our new Thursday blog author is Matt Logelin. His emotional candor and willingness to share his life, and his grief, with millions of people across the globe have made him a media sensation. With appearances on Oprah, The Rachel Ray Show, People Magazine, and over 50,000 blog followers, Matt's widowhood story has mobilized the compassion and generosity of thousands of people around the world. But Matt never loses sight of what is real. His wife, and the mother of his daughter, is dead. And so Maddy and Daddy carry on in the spirit of a love that continues to light their way. Instead of a direct syndication of his blog mattlogelin.com, Widow's Voice will use Matt's words and pictures to tell the story of Matt, Liz and Madeline starting from the day of Madeline's birth.
I had a flashback this week. Out of the blue, as they always come. Knocking me over as only the force of a tsunami wave can.
You know the kind.Read more
Yes, here we are once again...trying to put on a happy face. Tomorrow is my 40th birthday, and although I could care less about the fact of "40", the birthday itself is hard. Not the 40 part, just the birthday.
Four years ago I spent my birthday in the emergency room at MD Anderson, then in the outpatient surgery center, and as a celebration of the survival of a horrible night: Starbucks for a vanilla latte. A latte I felt guilty for drinking, as Daniel couldn't enjoy it - he was on a tube fed diet only at that point. I remember hardly noticing it was my birthday, and not really caring. We had bigger fish to fry at the time. A little more than two weeks later, the worst nightmare I could have possibly imagined came true, and the rest as they say is history.
Michelle and I have been doing this widow thing side by side for almost four years. When we met we were both newly widowed, and shell shocked. Each of us watched our dreams for the future unceremoniously demolished as one minute passed into the next. Thrown into a whirlwind of grief we discovered each other in the eye of the storm.Read more
I want to write away the pain. Sometimes I think that's why I write. I know that's why I talk to people, why I spend the energy to explain to them what this process is like. The more I talk the more distance I have from the process. The more distance I have from the process the less like mine it feels. Or the more sense I can try to make of it.Read more
There are moments where I feel as if I am on an idle screen. It's a screen that am totally aware of what it looks like when it is fully loaded. It's full of memories, strength, perseverance, and a positive outlook that is all fueled off the amazing love I have been given. Yet, with this new journey before me, there are times when the page doesn't fully load.Read more
I'm sure that as widows, we have all heard these words in some form or other. "You'll get over it one day." "You're young. You'll move on." "Time heals all wounds." And the like. I remember the first time some well-meaning, naive person attempted to instill these words of 'wisdom' upon me. I think I wanted to drop them.Read more