The older you get, the more dead people you know. They are everywhere now. They keep you company. Read more.
Widowed
Jon died unexpectedly at the age of 79. I thought we'd have many more years together. We won't.
I Like My Past. It’s a Keeper
We are instructed by the wise ones among us to live in the present. But I like my past. It’s a keeper and I like visiting it from time to time. Read more.
My Husband Was Bald — And Then He Wasn’t
With the covid shutdown, Jon stopped going to the hairdresser. Soon he wasn’t as bald as we thought he was. Read more.
Widowed: He’s Gone. And Now So Is His Barbecue
I’m widowed. He’s gone, and now so is his barbecue. They are just things, I tell myself. They aren’t Jon. And decluttering is a good thing. The kids like it when I get rid of stuff. Read more.
Widowed: Did My Husband Know I Loved Him?
We were not gushy, Jon and I, and that was fine with me. Widowed now, I’ve been wondering, was I too stingy with my affections? Did my husband know I loved him? Read more.
Am I an Artist? Or Am I a Brand?
What kind of writer am I anyway? When I sit down to the keyboard, is it to write something beautiful — or something that will sell? Am I an artist? Or am I a brand? Read more.
Widowed: My Husband’s Stuff Is Still Here. I’ve Got My Reasons
Marriage is mostly about presence, about being there. Jon’s not here anymore. But his belongings are. Read more.