Widowhood is confusing to me. I suppose every huge life change is, for those in the midst of it.
My mind whirls with thoughts of my husband's final days, his death, leaving southern California in my rear view mirror, driving away from him, being out on the road without him...the memories, and the pain that go with those memories, are strong and vivid and color the moments that have brought me to this time, 20 months later.
In numerous conversations even before his last cancer, he told me many times that he wanted me to find another man to love, and be loved by, someday. I agreed, though I expressed doubts of ever finding any other man who could measure up to my now high standards.
The confusing part?
Time is healing me, I suppose, but it's also taking me further and further away from Dave. Each day that passes is more time without the love, comfort and stability he so freely gave me. As the days pile up, I'm going more and more crazy for the comfort a loving spouse can bring. It's been so long since he's told me he loves me, wrapped his arms around me, made love to me, cuddled me. It's withdrawal and it seems to get worse as time goes on.Read more
I can handle being alone. Being "single" is just fine and I often think that this is how I would prefer to live. Loading the dishwasher in the way I deem to be correct is truly satisfying. Dancing spastically in the kitchen while the kids sleep and not concerning myself with looking coordinated or even sexy is fabulous.
(This is a post I wrote 10 months after Jim died. It still applies.)
This is one of those pictures that doesn't need any words about love. It's there.
OK, let me just warn you upfront. This is going to be a weird post. I'm going to try to explain something that I felt yesterday but I don't really know how to explain it, and I wonder how many people are just going to think I'm some weirdo. I've already told you that I have difficulty stating my emotions, so this post is huge. Well, for me. Probably not for you.Read more
Sex. I’ve been thinking about it lately.
And I really miss it. I miss the animal-ness of having another sweaty body pressed down against mine, the sounds, the smell.
I miss being openly desired, I miss teasing, I miss all the foreplay that comes before. I miss being sexy. I miss being a sensual woman.
And I find myself unsure if I even know how to be sensual outside of him.
I’m tired of being a widow.
I’m tired of bringing the car to the mechanic when the red maintenance light visually screams at me.
I’m tired of running out of food and being responsible for getting more.
I’m tired of waking up by myself.
For several weeks I have been breathing in loneliness and exhaling it too. It soaks me in its wet, heavy haziness.
Every time I look anywhere, there is a couple, together, sharing a joke, a small gentle familiar kiss, a rest of a familiar hand on the small of a back, the lack of space between themRead more
I keep returning here to write something. To let you all know that things are okay and that life goes on and we are happy. They are, it does and often we are.
But I am feeling the weight lately of a realization. One I should have had two years and eight months ago.
This is FOREVER.Read more
L, my 13 yr old is taking French. The Spanish classes met at the same time as the Jazz Ensemble and Chamber Orchestra. He plays the cello.
And he says “Mom, what would really help me is if we went to France.”Read more
**My apologies for the raw and rude wording of this post. It's been written in the heat of the moment but I feel it would lessen its 'feel' if I softened the wording. I hope no one is offended**
There are times I hate him for dying. Two and a half years later and I could spit fury at his lack of care for his health, for his concern for our welfare, for his love for us.Read more