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.
Widowed
Jon died unexpectedly at the age of 79. I thought we'd have many more years together. We won't.
We Humans Are Ineffable
People are a little like God. You know who they are, but that “who” can’t be captured or summed up in words. We humans are ineffable. Read more.
Grief — Love With No Place to Go
Grief changes from day to day. For me right now, without my husband alongside me, grief is love with no place to go. Read more.
Widowed: Where’s My Lead Pony?
A lead pony is the seasoned horse who escorts a anxious racehorse to the gate, exerting a calming presence. I’m widowed. Where’s my lead pony? Read more.
Widowed: Yes, It Does Get Easier, Sad to Say
Does life ever get easier for the widowed? Yes, it does, sad to say. For some, the fading of that intense grief feels like yet another loss. Read more.
I’m a Widow. Was This Guy Asking Me for a Date?
It was just a friendly chat with a stranger out walking his dog. But then I thought, “I’m a widow. Was this guy asking me for a date?” Read more.
The Question of Flowers: Are They — Are We — Works of Art?
Flowers, by their very nature, never seem troubled to me, or even ruffled. Area they — are we — works of art? Read more.