Never before have I thought more about that phrase, “peace be with you.” I’m not sure if God has a plan or if there’s even a way that God can intervene here on earth. Still, the rituals of each church service make it so that these people – the ones who aren’t my best friends, but who are part of my community – can come up to me, hold my hands and say the words, “peace be with you.”
I didn’t text him. But I did start to cry. Actually, I started to openly weep in our high school library and I had to put my head down on the desk to compose myself. These moments – the ones where grief overwhelm me – still come at times like these, and I’m never ready for them.
Grief, if it shows up at all in children’s movies and shows, is brief and contained. My own children's grief is not.
When Mamamia wanted to run two of my blog posts, I wasn't surprised that they liked my writing, "You Look Hot, By the Way." But they also really liked this one. When I asked why, they said it was something that many people could connect to. I think I get it - you don't need the death of a spouse to still need some space in your life.
To all the moms out there: Happy Mother's Day. Here are my reflections.
This week has been rough. I'm still so sad, and I've started to really question who I am.
Before Shawn’s death, I was a teacher and a mother. I am still those things. But I was also Shawn’s wife, and I am not that anymore. Or not quite.
I am questioning my ideas about everything I’ve ever thought my kids should do. I’m starting to re-imagine what I really want for them.
If I’ve learned anything these last few months it’s that grief doesn’t have boundaries. It affects men and women, adults and children, and is most certainly global. I’m honored to have my first international piece published today - one you may remember from my blog.
I am living in hell, but it’s a hell where all my friends and neighbors keep throwing me ice buckets of water to cool off.
If you have a mother-in-law, or even if you don’t, please read this. Share this. Tag a friend. This is one of my favorite pieces that I’ve written to date.
(via Scary Mommy)
A few weeks ago, I went to a political fundraiser where I knew very few people. This is what people discussed around me when they thought my life was perfect.
The “what if?” fear was always there. It is for every parent. It’s just so much stronger now.
My article in Scary Mommy on what it's like to suddenly become a single parent.
Shawn and I both didn’t believe in the idea of soul mates. His parents thought we were totally unromantic to say such a thing. I remember one time when we were talking to them about it, early in our marriage. They were telling us how, surely, we must think of each other as soul mates because we were so happy together, and Shawn said something like, “but isn’t it more romantic to think that we weren’t destined for each other but instead choose to be with each other every single day?”
Want to know the most important part of that paperwork for me that day? Next to the photocopy of an advance directive so old that it appeared to have been typewritten, Shawn had written in one request: that I play music as he died.
I write almost every evening about my day and my reflections on life. When I wake up in the morning, I read it over, and about half the time I decide that what I've written is too raw to share.
This is one of the posts I would usually not share. But I woke up today and decided that it was time to let you in to the darker parts of my life.
Please don't worry - I'm okay. This is all just part of my process. Sometimes, it's really not pretty.
Most everyone moves throughout their day without having to process horrible information, so when it comes, I know it’s shocking. Even if it comes in the form of my face appearing unexpectedly.
My gut seems to have re-set to a new normal where only a few things – and their names are Claire, Austin and Tommy – can really make me panic.