I came home to what I thought was an empty house but, widowed, I got caught in the act of crying for my husband. Noisily. Read more.
Barbara’s Riffs on Life
A Widow’s Christmas Card — Where’s Jon When I Need Him Most?
My first widow’s Christmas card — my husband isn’t here to compose the poem and photoshop the card. How do I pull it off without him? Read more.
Betty Rollin on How to Talk to a Widow
Betty Rollin on how to talk to a widow: Betty says don’t assume she’s over it just because a year has gone by. I say, ask me about my garden. Read more.
An Urban Oasis: Keeping It Wild — And Fire Resistant
Beaconsfield Canyon was blighted with trash and invasive species — until its human neighbors took it upon themselves to restore their wild urban oasis. Read more.
Widowed: I Get to Have It My Way Now
Jon is gone. He has forfeited his right to have a say in things. Now that I’m widowed. I get to have it my way, 100 percent of the time. Read more.
Widowed: ‘Let Us Tend Our Garden’
Translating Voltaire for my backyard: “We must cultivate our garden,” feels bossy and rife with certitude. I prefer, “Let us tend our garden.” Read more.