My minivan has a back-up beeper installed and I never fail to wear safety goggles when required.
I realize that teenagers at the bus stop snicker as I stride by sporting my safety vest covered in all it's reflective glory and a red light flashing out a constant reminder of the whereabouts of my hind-end.
And in the past, I would have worried that this safety gear would identify me as a complete dork. A safety freak. Now I see it as protecting my kids.Read more
Like it was yesterday, I remember the night Daniel died and the drive home from the hospital. The drive home to G, who was innocently sleeping, still unaware that life as he knew it had radically altered. I remember talking myself through telling him what had happened. I remember feeling so sick to my stomach and so anxious. I knew that the next few moments would be something he remembered his whole life, and I knew I couldn't mess it up.Read more
Since the death of Jeff, I am ALWAYS searching for reason or explanation for each occurrence that unfolds in my life. I have become adept at looking for, and most often finding, the "bright side". Searching out the blessings. The gifts that, however difficult to see initially, reveal themselves as the shock of trauma wears away.Read more
.... because I am starting to realize that not everyone on this path .... "gets it". Yes, that's a broad term, but I've used it and seen it used hundreds of times amongst widowed people. Since Jim died I have discovered that when widowed people are together (or writing to one another) many words don't have to spoken. Most emotions and feelings don't have to be explained. Most behaviors don't need to be defended.
We "get" each other.
"Hi, it’s me. I forgot to ask you to be sure you ride in the second or third car of the train. Thanks."
"Wow, you are awfully close to the side of the road. Don't get hit by a car."
"Bike ride? Um, sure that sounds like a good idea. Are you going out alone?"
"Hi, you said you'd be home around three and it is three-thirty now. Just checking in. Can you call me as soon as you get this? Thanks."
"Have fun. Be careful. Drive Safely. Call me when you get there. Love you. Don't forget to call."
otherwise perfect, this
moment became something
when the words
drifted from her lips.
well, i shouldn't say
that it was
wholly unexpected, but the
timing most certainly was.
Friday, August 27th
I put Langston and Pallas on a bus today to attend Camp Erin, a weekend camp for grieving kids.
I drive away before the bus does.
And on the 10 heading west, in traffic (thankfully) I cry.
Putting them on a bus is…
Tonight, I took Liv to a meeting. It just so happened to be at a place that I haven't been to in 19 months and 12 days. The place Liv was baptised. The place we were married. The place Jeff's funeral was held.
I didn't think it would affect me much. I thought I had grown stronger and more resilient. I knew it would sting a bit, but I hadn't anticipated this.
Fear is the voice in your head that tells you things are impossible, the doubts that creep into your mind when you're up late and the kids are asleep, the voice that tells you that hope is for patsies. Fear is not an emotion that I experience very often. It's not in my make-up. Call it ignorance, call it bravado, there isn't much that makes me afraid. Until recently.Read more