I am jealous of old people.
Every single old person that I see walking down the street. I am jealous of them.
The bitter ones.
The wrinkled up, exhausted by life ones.
The healthy ones.
The sick ones.
The ones who have made it into their late 80's or even early 90's, and who are still walking side by side with their partners.
The husband who grabs his wife's fragile hand, pulling her up that last small step, into their favorite diner.
The wife who rubs soothing lotion or cream into her husband's back and neck, in places where he can no longer reach on his own.
I have been working really hard at being upbeat and positive this Christmas. I consciously remind myself of the wonderful things in my life - amazing kids, great friends, a rewarding job, an amazing community, etc. I don't want to whine. I certainly don't wish to have others internally groan and roll their eyes if I talk about how lame the holidays are as an only parent or a widow. I keep beating myself over the head with intentions of positivity and quotes about gratitude. I very often feel that I have reached the lauded grieving stage of "acceptance".
But sometimes, just sometimes, I feel myself thinking, "This sh*t blows."Read more
It was a lovely evening. I could feel the exhaustion running all the way into my finger tips and for once I welcomed it. It was 9:30 pm. I checked the clock 7 times to make sure I hadn’t misread it.
9:30 pm and for once all three of my children were in bed and….asleep.
A self-congratulatory smirk (accompanied with a sigh of unimaginable relief) passes over my lips. I’m in bed at 9:30 pm!!! I close my eyes doing a happy-skip-run-prance towards sleep.
I am strong. I am brave. I am a survivor. I am usually empathetic and kind. But...... Sometimes I'm an angry whiner. I wallow in my self-pity and the life that I now exist in.
I realize that life is a gift and that we must be grateful for the amount of time we spend with our loved ones and upon this Earth.....But there are times I can't help myself but to gnash my teeth and spew angry thoughts of self-pity.Read more
I received an email from a friend today. She decided that she needed to be direct with me about the status of our friendship. She said that she doesn't know how to be in a friendship with me anymore, and that she has felt this way ever since Michael died. She feels like any pain, loss, disappointment or loneliness that she has experienced in her lifetime, just doesn't rate in my mind. It has made her feel like she has nothing to offer me, or that there is no room for her to share what's going on in her life, especially if it is something positive.Read more
Well, it's Saturday night, February 12th, and I'm sitting here alone. My son has a friend sleeping over, and I can hear their laughter in the distant room, but other than that all I hear is the sound of a fountain next to my front window. I have been here most of the evening, sitting on my couch, doing some writing, surfing the net with a profound boredom, and staring into space.
I do this a lot.
I recently found a "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff Workbook". It is full of quizzes and exercises to force you to look inward at yourself. This introspection makes me realize that I am pretty 'normal' if not, less 'sweaty' than the average person. I've been really enjoying 'getting to know myself' in the 5 minutes I take now and then to complete a section. And it's interesting to compare 'me' now to 'me' before.Read more
I’m reading a report from a development optometrist Ezra saw last week. It’s a second opinion.
I didn’t read the first report. I tried to…
but it was too hard.
Both reports highlight some of the things Ezra is struggling with in school.Read more
.... a nice bank account.
That's the issue today. I originally published the majority of this post (with a different title) on my personal blog on October 27th. But it seemed to hit home with so many widowed people that I thought I'd write it again (and add to it) here.
"You treat yourself nice." ....
**My apologies for the raw and rude wording of this post. It's been written in the heat of the moment but I feel it would lessen its 'feel' if I softened the wording. I hope no one is offended**
There are times I hate him for dying. Two and a half years later and I could spit fury at his lack of care for his health, for his concern for our welfare, for his love for us.Read more