It's been a long time since I could say without hesitation "I feel happy".
In the time since Dave died, I've laughed and enjoyed myself, but always I felt that underlying layer of sadness and shock that dampened everything. It made even laughter a bittersweet act. How could I laugh when he was gone?
Lately, though, I've felt happy. Not tinged with despair, not lost in a fog of numbness, not laughing through my pain, just simply happy.
I've had a particularly hard couple of weeks lately. Not only has there been Christmas and the 18 month mark since he died, but throw in a trip to Dallas where we lived together, his younger brother graduating from college, my idiotic attempt to start a pretty strict new diet and workout regimen (beginning a week before Thanksgiving, really Sarah??) and the still impending nerviness of the gallery I work at closing in just 2 weeks... and it's no wonder I've had a total and complete meltdown.Read more
Two writers stepping down in one week?!?
First it was Melinda. Now, it's my turn.
This is very bittersweet for me. I am so incredibly thankful for the platform that Michele has given me to open up my heart and share my journey. I have learned so much just from watching my life unfold in my own words and processing through it, as well as reading alongside the rest of you the posts from the other great writers here.
This weekend as we traveled to Indiana, Michigan, and back to West Virginia in 3 short days, we logged a lot of hours in the car. Sometimes I dread long trips because let's face it: we have 5 children packed into our vehicle like sardines, who we lovingly refer to as "the pee and flee gang" constantly asking us to stop, fighting over what movie to watch next, and just in general making our trips a little more, well....complicated. But most of the time, I enjoy the time just to sit and veg out for awhile, to listen to music, to read with my husband, and to dream, talk, listen, and grow with each other while the scenery passes by us.
As we made our way home starting at 9pm Sunday night, we had a nice silent car ride with our children sleeping almost the entire trip - which made for lots of great conversation to keep us both awake (ok, I may have dozed off for awhile...) But Steve asked me a question in the midst of our drive that really resonated with me.
Summer has started here in Texas and the heat is on. Grayson has started his series of summer camps, and we're looking forward to our birthday trip over the 4th of July weekend.
Ten years old. It's hard to believe that my little guy will be 10. He was 5 when he lost his dad, and I was so afraid that he'd be permanently damaged by the whole experience. Five years later, he seems to be doing so well, it's amazing.
Ah yes, the List of Requirements...it sounds so very like something out of Hogwarts, and in fact the original list Michele described yesterday was crafted by a couple of witches for certain! I do have to admit to a sense of shame after reviewing the first list, were we really so shallow? No, we weren't. But the first list was written as a joke...more as a protection against the mere thought of men. I mean, why would we even really consider another relationship? We'd been happy already. Maybe we had already been given our happiness allotment? Maybe we should just count ourselves lucky and retire?Read more
One of the most amazing things about having a widow friend to share this bumpy road with is that I always have someone with whom to discuss the daily questions of life. One issue that has occupied Michelle and I (pictured here right after the Widow Dash in San Diego) is the concept of good enough. When you feel that life has already given you an amazing man, a good life that you loved, a great kid or kids, a rewarding career,etc, etc--how do you determine what will be good enough after a large part of this bliss has been ripped away?Read more
I have learned, when Anneke travels, to relax a bit. I only seem to get anxious and hyper the day she returns. While she is gone, I am resigned to the fact that she is there, and I am here and I might as well just chill. Since I have no choice.Read more
What kind of man is capable of loving a widow? Would he always wonder if he measured up to the dead man whose image has a prominent place in my bedroom? How would he handle the mention of said dead husband in everyday conversation? At some point would he tire of having to be patient while a grief wave rolled, unannounced, over his girl? What would having a partner who was deeply in love with someone else be like? Um, could I do that? Could I love someone confidently knowing that they loved someone else with a deep, undying passion? How would standing beside a person who spends 90% of her time talking about, writing about, and thinking about her dead husband make me feel?Read more
There are lots of things we put in closets. There are things you expect to find inside like sweaters, dresses, and shoes. Then there are the other things that you can't find a place for like old yearbooks, memory boxes, or last year's tax returns. Perhaps there are mothballs, spiderwebs, or the odd price tag from a purchased item....all of this you might find behind the doors of your wardrobe.Read more