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
Jon died unexpectedly at the age of 79. I thought we'd have many more years together. We won't.
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.
Widowed: The Perfect Husband. The Perfect Christmas Tree
Widowed: The perfect husband? The perfect Christmas tree? I started a list of all the things that annoyed me about Jon. But I lost the list. Read more.
I’m Old. And Here’s What I Like About That
I’m old. And what I like most about that is — I’m not in the thick of things anymore. I don’t have to be. I’ve got other things to do. Read more.