Widowed

Jon died unexpectedly at the age of 79. I thought we'd have many more years together. We won't.

The Trouble With Poinsettias

The trouble with poinsettias is — they don’t know that Christmas is over and it’s time to make an exit. Read more.

I said hello to Jon and his family, and then there was nothing more to do in this graveyard. Read more.

I’m thankful for a window. It’s small but it opens onto everything: a tree. A bird. A squirrel. Not much. But in fact everything. Read more.

My husband is the hero of my next book. I wanted it all — family and career. And Jon made it possible. Read more.

Widowed: Do I still miss him? Not really. Missing Jon is not the shape my grief takes. Most days. Read more.

Living to 100 — and then some: My grandmother lived till a few weeks short of her 100th birthday. My plan was to do the same. Read more.

The older you get, the more dead people you know. They are everywhere now. They keep you company. Read more.