I feel the sharpest grief when I picture my husband alive and wanting something, planning something — picking out artichokes for dinner, making a grandchild laugh. Read more.
Widowed: We’re Older and Kinder Now
I’m older and kinder now, but not because I’m a virtuous goody-good. It’s my irresponsible id, my reptilian brain, that wants to be kind. Read more.
California Clay: Oozing, Writhing, Glistening Art. Now at the Bedford Gallery
Bedford Gallery’s “California Clay” show, where ceramic art forgets to look like art and chooses instead to ooze, glisten, drip and writhe. Read more.
Nature Giveth and Nature Taketh Away
Against all odds, a flowering fruit tree took root in the wild canyon below our house, but not for long. Nature giveth, nature taketh away. Read more.
Am I Still Old? Or Am I Elderly Now?
Head-spinning vertigo had me stumbling around the house like an old lady. I had to wonder, am I still just old? Or have I moved on to being elderly? Read more.
Widowed: Am I Grieving? Or Am I Just Lonely?
Am I grieving, or am I just lonely? When I spotted my husband’s empty office chair, I was overcome by — what? Sorrow? Or simple loneliness? Read more.
Widowed: A Bathroom for One
My husband isn’t here to take care of me. I’m taking care of me now. I’m widowed and I’m treating myself to a bathroom for one. Read more.