Penny Sharman

  • commented on Monkeying Around 2016-02-11 12:25:15 -0800
    Stephanie, you are just such a delight and I look forward to your posts every week.

  • commented on Validating my Truth 2016-02-07 11:21:54 -0800
    Rebecca this is so true. I remember years and years ago, an acquaintance of mine lost her husband in an accident at a very early age. I ran into her and I just talked about everything except the elephant in the room. I thought I was doing the right thing by not making her feel uncomfortable or sad. It wasn’t until years later when my mother in law died that I realized how comforting the condolences are. That acquaintance and I have renewed our acquaintanceship through Facebook and I had an opportunity to apologize for not mentioning her husband and his death and my condolences. She is a lovely person and very graciously accepted my apology. My husband died a year and a half ago and like you said, we don’t hear the condolences any more. A few months ago, a friend and I got together for coffee for the first time since my husband’s funeral. She started talking about the funeral and how much she enjoyed hearing about this man – the memories he created for our children, his wonderful sense of humour, how interesting he was – and she said she was so sorry she never got to meet him. I can’t tell you how much I appreciated her words. I read somewhere that after the first year, the condolences stop but the grief doesn’t. So true and just something we members of this wretched club have to accept. Thank you for sharing. You are such an inspiration to all of us that follow your journey.

  • commented on Keep Them Alive at Christmas 2015-12-28 08:50:52 -0800
    This was my second Christmas without my husband Gary. What do I miss most about him at Christmas time? I miss his company the most. As the years went by, we changed a lot of our traditions. When the kids were little, we cut down our own tree, made advent calendars, left cookies and milk for Santa and carrots for the reindeer. Gary was a part of all that including eating half the carrot and making hoof prints in the snow. Fast forward to a time when the kids were grown and had children of their own and we had downsized to a table top tree and Christmas dinner at one of their homes. Our Christmas mornings were spent sitting in our side by side lazy boy chairs chuckling at how we were enjoying our few hours of quiet until we arrived at our daughter’s home and the usual chaos. I was reminded this Christmas of one of our traditions that never went away. Our two daughters impatiently waited with loud sighs and lots of wiggles for Daddy to finish making his coffee before they could start opening gifts. He would deliberately take his time grinning from ear to ear with each loud groaning sigh. As they got older, they started making his coffee in hopes of speeding the process up and he would again deliberately find things to slow it down. This Christmas morning my oldest daughter posted on Facebook saying “the boys were chomping at the bit this morning and I said just hold on until I get my coffee” and the oldest boy said OK Grandpa". She then posted a picture of the stockings I had made them that were absolutely huge saying homemade stockings were a part of her Christmases and now it was part of the boys’ Christmas. Gary would have rolled his eyes and laughed at the size of them ……..and loved it. God I miss him!

  • commented on Bearing What isn't Bearable but is Borne~ 2015-12-11 08:16:36 -0800
    Alison: Your post is so timely for me. My husband died 16 months ago and I was thinking that I was doing okay all things considered. But this past week has been awful and it occurred to me that it was as bad as when he first died. And then I thought no it’s worse because in the beginning, I was numb and now I’m not so the pain, the missing him, his absence is so much more acute. So your post just spoke volumes to me. We don’t know how we’re able to go on but we go on. We just do! Thanks again.

  • commented on Always and Never 2015-10-17 06:53:44 -0700
    Wow, thanks for having no idea what to write about! It was perfect! It’s been a little over a year for me now since my husband died and I knew quite early on that my life had changed forever, that I was never going to be the same again and I was never going to stop missing Gary. But despite that I knew I would eventually have a life I would enjoy, that I should enjoy and that I deserved to enjoy. I wasn’t there yet but that thought gave me hope and now I can say I have many joyful moments in my life…..but oh I miss my husband so much. I went to a movie with my sister last night and as the trailers of upcoming movies were showing I kept thinking of Gary – which ones he would look forward to seeing. Our election here in Canada is on Monday and I miss hearing his views on the candidates. Donald Trump’s run for the Republican leadership – I almost laugh knowing what he would say about that. I can’t tell him the latest funny thing our quirky 10 year old grandson said. And the list goes on and on. Such a wonderful post Kelly. Thank you.

  • commented on The W Word~ 2015-07-24 12:23:57 -0700
    Alison: I love what you have just posted. Thank you so much for sharing this, especially what you said what being Chuck Dearing’s widow meant to you. I can relate so much to that. Thanks again

  • commented on Gone Dancing 2015-07-16 20:04:26 -0700
    Stephanie, I can’t begin to tell you how much I identify with you. Every week you write something that makes me say “Yes! That’s what I mean!” I always intend to comment and then I get busy and don’t but boy am I paying attention to what you have to say. My husband Gary died 11 months ago and I still can’t believe he is dead and I suspect I won’t be able to wrap my head around that next year or the year after that and so on. You wrote a couple of weeks ago about the “wave” of reality and I thought what a good word that was – a wave. That’s exactly what it is. And this week as you talk about obsessing about what you leave behind. I have spent the past several months going through things in this house and I ask myself, “Do I want this? Will my kids want it after I die?” and if the answer is no, then it’s tossed. And it feels good. I went through all my photos and if they didn’t mean anything to me and I didn’t think my girls would be interested, they were discarded. Then I labelled every photo that was left so they will know. People chuckle or look a little dismayed when I tell them because they think I’m being morbid. But when your husband dies, you become aware of your own mortality. I like you idea about the passwords and I’m going to act on that. Thanks. And thanks so much for sharing all those wonderful words that are just so darn relevant to me. You rock!