I went to Chuck, a few days before he died, to have a semi final conversation with him.
I hoped that we'd have more conversation, but the cancer was taking over and I knew he didn't have much longer on this earth.
Even writing those words shreds my heart, as if I'm in those last days again.
Fucking cancer.Read more
Whispers of you echo through my years.
Echoes now, even more than memories.
The passing of Time has dulled the pain,
But it has also sullied my memory.Read more
Chuck's death did not break me.
I am not broken.
My heart shattered when he died.
It is shattered still.
I feel dislocated.
Trying to find my footing each day without him.
Yes, even six years later.
But not broken.
I don't need fixing.
I never did.
I fully recognize the people who shine a light for me on this darkened pathway.
And I recognize those who don't.
I draw healthy boundaries with those who don't.
And I celebrate those who do.
My heart overflows with Love.
The Love left behind for me by Chuck, and the Love gifted to me by the ones shining the light of Love for me, helping to illuminate my way.
It's all one and the same for me.
I'll always write about it...about Chuck and our Love story.
Always speak about it.
Write and speak about his absence from my life now, and the Love that lives on, in so many varied forms.
And I'll always and forever create beauty from it.
stripped me down to bone and marrow.
It dug my heart out of my body with sharp talons
And flung it, bloodied, onto the ground
A sharp bladed axe,
Such as was used for beheadings in the days of Henry VIII
Hacked away at that bloodied heart of mine on the ground.
Slicing and dicing it into miniscule pieces.Read more
You are so far away now.
6 years away.
A lifetime away.
A moment away.
But a moment that is memory rather than feeling.
I'm continually searching for new and fascinating podcasts to listen to as I drive my Odyssey of Love. Podcasts by people who think outside the box. Live outside expectations. See beyond what we've generally been taught, whether intentionally or culturally.
This perception in thinking isn't new to me; I was raised to read and question and educate myself.
When Chuck and I started our traveling days together, we let go, willingly, of our material possessions. A huge bit of it was donated to friends. What we kept, we'd go through each time we visited our storage unit.
And what I found was that, as our pile of possessions grew smaller and smaller, I began looking inside of myself.
Why did I believe what I did? Where did my absolutes come from? And were they serving me in my adult life?Read more
I don't want to only be known as a widow.
I'm more than that.
But I don't know what I am any longer.
I've heard and read such words so frequently in these 6 years since Chuck's death.
What and who am I now?
Am I single? Am I still married? How do I define myself?Read more
April 21, 2013.
It all stopped at that moment.
He took a quick breath in.
So did I.
And that was it.Read more
What do you think about happiness?
The possibility for it, in widowhood, I mean.
And has the word changed in meaning for you since the death of your person?
Do you even know what it means in this life after?Read more
This landscape of widowhood.
The Alaskan tundra.
The Sahara Desert.
The Austrailian Outback.
Every side road in between cities and towns.