Six years ago today you headed out the door for what would be your final bike ride. You checked the tires on your bike, oiled the chain, filled two water bottles, kissed me good-bye, left, came back for some unidentified thing (I still wonder what brought you back, and if those additional moments cost you your life), and then kissed me good-bye again. After that last touching of lips, our lives would never again be the same.
I just returned from a nice weekend in Orange County. My friends invited me to join them for the weekend, which included some surfing time for my son, and a bunco party for the adults. I was promised over and over what a good time I would have, and how it was an opportunity to meet more of their friends.Read more
The last two days I've been sick.
I found myself lying in my bed, the wrong way.
Backwards (head where my feet usually are, feet where my head usually is)
The fever is making me feel backwards.
The past two weeks have been a whirlwind, and I'm kind of getting acclimated on the occasions where they happen...and in a way enjoying the mayhem it brings.
Last weekend was one of the best parts. We held an Inner Peace getaway for the amazing AWP ladies. From yoga to sailing to long nights of talking....it helped center me back in a place that I had been swinging around on like an out of control pendulum.
It takes a long time.... to get from there .... to here.
It has taken me almost 4 years to get here.
Four years that have seemed like one day .... and forty years .... all at the same time.
Six years before Jim died he had an accident on his family's farm, at Thanksgiving. As an aside, it seems that the big events in his life, and therefore, in mine .... happened either on, or very close to, a holiday. He went out proving that .... one week before Christmas.
There was a real chance that Maggie would have died that first night we were in the hospital back on January 6, 2007. Despite our dreams, our plans, our love and our forever-together commitment, I’d truly be alone. As she slept soundly in a cozy, drug-induced haze, I felt like it was me against all the evil in the world… and the evil was winning. I felt the most alone I had ever felt in my life. While I watched her chest slowly sink and rise with each laborious breath, my mind raced with terrible, terrible thoughts and I feared I was never going to speak to or kiss my sweet wife again. It was the longest, loneliest night of my life.Read more
The people in this photo have experienced despair. These smiling faces have cried buckets (okay maybe an ocean) of tears because someone they love is not coming home, ever. Some of us were called to an emergency room or opened the door to a uniformed officer who told us the news that would change our lives; while others sat by a bedside day after day, night after night...climbing into a hospital bed to say the final good bye.Read more
I walked by the building, intentionally, on the way home from seeing Woody Allen’s new film “Midnight in Paris”, a poetic reflection on the seeming attraction of former eras.
The access to the building is now sealed. Not just boarded over with plywood that I could pry loose. Not even with brick that I might be able to chip away with the right tools and enough sweat. No, the former door is now a solid wall of impenetrable concrete cinder block.Read more
I will never be able to deliver this letter to myself three years ago in the past. But I can post it here and hope that it will offer some comfort and solace to some of the widows/widowers who come after me ....Read more
As I write this, hundreds of widows and widowers are half a world away at Camp Widow.
Finding others who don’t look at them with pity, but with knowing.
With friendship.Read more