How do I bring the girl he fell in love with back to life?
I miss her.
I am working on rebuilding myself.
And, the new version of me is different.
I am changed not by choice, but by design.
Not all of me survived his death. But, the core of who I am and who he loved still remains. So, here I am using the bones of my old self as the foundation on which to recreate myself and my life. And, it is fair to say, like with any remodel, the new me will be better equipped and improved.
I’ve heard that when you feel you are struggling with your writing it is because you are writing what you think you should write instead of what you truly feel. I can’t find the actual quote right now (it was much more eloquent than that) but that idea has been on my mind for a while. Since I saw it really. I’ve wanted to write and share about something but I’ve been nervous. Anxious for a whole bunch of reasons. Nervous that it’s too easy and good to be true. That it’ll soon disappear. Anxious because I’m less cautious than I use to be and although I like it I’m still getting used to myself. Nervous because with change comes emotions and more changes and I’m adjusting.
But at the same time, I want to share. It’s what is on my mind a lot and it’s hard to write about other things when it’s not really what I’m thinking about. I’ve mentioned here and there about it but not really fully shared.Read more
Does our soul get more than one soulmate?
This is what I believe. ....
Our soul is perhaps the biggest part of our makeup, as human beings. It is what carries all the important stuff. Emotion, heart, love. I think that with life experience, age, and time, our souls change and alter some. I think after the death of a partner or spouse, our souls become different. They transform. Sure, the core of who we are remains - some personality traits, things like that. But our soul, the way we view the world, the way we love - changes drastically after the death of a partner or spouse. So, to me, the soul and the person I was, when I was with my husband and loved by him, is not the same soul and person I am today, because of his death. That soul deserved love. This one does too. The way I love is different now, and the person I am today, has a soulmate. My first soulmate lives on in my heart, and through all my memories and stories about us. As his widow, I feel honored and privileged to be the one to carry out his legacy, and build my own, on the foundation that is love. The bricks are all built from love.Read more
I became a NY Yankee fan in the 1990s, when I went to NYC for college. It was the Joe Torre era, and baseball in NY was exciting. Going to multiple games at Yankee Stadium with college friends, it was tough not to fall in love with it. When I started dating Don, my late husband, he wasn’t really into baseball. He said it was boring, and asked me how I could watch an entire game without falling asleep. I told him if he understood the strategy, it’s the furthest thing from boring.
When he moved to NY to start our life together, he understood. He became a huge Yankees fan too, bigger than I could have ever imagined. He was hooked. He would watch pre-game show, post-game show, and everything in between. When we watched a game together on TV, he would talk nonstop, analyzing the pitcher or hitters next move. It is a thinking man’s game, and my husband was a thinker. This was his sport. WE went to lots of Yankees games together. In NYC, in Florida during spring training - we had a blast, and so many memories. My love for the Yankees is my own, but it’s also very much connected to my relationship with Don. It was one of "our things" that we truly enjoyed together - a great Yankees game.
When he died, it took a long time for me to go back to my Yankees. At first, I watched an inning at a time. Or maybe two innings. Then I’d have to shut it off. It was too lonely without his commentary and back and forth conversation. After a while, I went back to Yankee Stadium. I went with good friends. We felt his spirit there, we felt him close. It was comforting.Read more
*Normally I write on Fridays, and although this post will appear here on Friday, I am writing it Wednesday evening, and setting it to publish Friday. This way I dont have to worry about finding a computer to post the blog while at the Marriott and busy with other things.
A simple photo opportunity.
A day in the sun. A day with the one I love.
Proof that he is here for me. Proof that he exists here in my life. Proof that he offers his hand to me.
I sit here looking at this innocent photo that I took today.
My hand on his. His hand at ease. His hand already used to mine finding its way over to his.
I am very fortunate. I never forget this. I never take the offer of his hand for granted.
Two Thanksgiving celebrations down, and one to go.
It's been an interesting couple of days. Friday night I hosted an office Thanksgiving potluck at my home. Almost every person from the office came, along with their families. There was so much food, wine and desert, and everyone was in a very good mood. Most had hoped to meet Abel, and since he had to work, I was explaining all night as to why he wasn't present.
That's what we tend to sometimes make our dead spouse ..... a saint.
It's a good thing they're dead.
No one could actually live up to those standards.
Jim was not a saint.
Not by a long shot.
But then, neither was/am I.
and this is a pretty large "but".....
...... we had almost 27 years to work on our relationship.
Kim's blog this weekend got me thinking...fondly reminiscing about the "joys" of dating again. This blog isn't really a poem...more of an epic journey, the story of a quest.
I met my husband at the ripe old age of 16, and married him at 22. We did date other people for a while in college, but really - he was "the one" from the beginning. Fast forward through marriage, college, grad school, the birth of a wee one, and a deathly battle with cancer....(not to go quickly through that important stuff, but those fabulous years are not the topic of this blog). The scene is set with a suddenly widowed 36 year old woman wondering...WTF now?
..... were flowing down my face today.
The man in my life, V, was holding me.
He had spent the day taking care of me after he took me to a hospital bright and early this morning so that I could have a procedure done on my shoulder. I had to be put under so they wanted to make sure that someone would be staying the day with me, to keep any eye on me.
V did a very good job.
He watched me sleep on his couch while he worked on his computer.
He watched me read a book (and fight off sleep) while he did work over the phone.