I have plunged back into the cold, dark, hopeless place I felt buried in the first few weeks/months after Dave died. I've been struggling to eat, sleep, clean up after myself, and find comfort in anything. Everything feels like sandpaper against raw nerve endings. I can't stand to be alone. I need help. I've reached out. I've especially sought out the hugs and love of the women in my life who are best at sitting with me in my pain. They make me feel safe to let go entirely. They've saved me. And they have their own lives, so I return again and again to my own empty home to try to ease my own pain.Read more
I've had many dreams of Jeff since his death. There are a few that are terrifying renditions of the last few minutes of his life; but the vast majority centre on seeing him again in a variety of surprising locations.
I've found him on dairy farms slogging through the mud. I have glimpsed him on boats passing bridges that I stand upon. I have found him sitting at the dinner table expectant for his next meal.Read more
Written five months "post Jeff"....
My sister, Kirsten, was lending an ear the other day when I was having a hard time. I was upset about the whole lack of hope and happiness thing.Read more
gray and black hair,
reeking of booze,
wearing a shirt that
said, "vote no on yes."
A song plays. A breeze brushes past my face. A scene from a movie crosses the screen. I stand in the kitchen for no certain reason. A sunset paints itself across the horizon. Our dog sticks his head out the window. I lay silently in bed.
It started with a call from CJ (my brother in law), letting me know that he and Kenzi we're heading to the hospital to have their baby girl.
Rewind to 9 months earlier, it was another dinner and movie night at our home and Kenzi and CJ walked in, stood in the entrance and announced they were pregnant. When the words came out of their mouths, it was one of the moments in which the finality of Michael not being there to be a part of this chapter of their lives sank in.
Jackie is moving into her new home this week, and so I am filling in for her today. One of our readers commented on this previous post, and after reading it myself I thought I'd share these thoughts once again. I find that every time I read something from the past...I learn a new lesson for the future. The question I am answering today is whether I felt Phil's presence in any specific way after his death....Read more
My three year old nephew, Gabe, told my sister, "Uncle Jeff died, but he still has his imagination."
I love this idea. The belief that 'his imagination' or mind is still intact brings me huge relief and comfort.
I was listening to a song this weekend and for some reason I heard a loud message in it that I've not heard before. For whatever reason I felt like Daniel was trying to tell me something. Still trying to figure it out, but thought I'd share it here.Read more