Three and a half years have passed since Roy died and I have come to a temporary resting place on the other side of the glass bridge to widowhood. My grief is rounder and softer; it fits much more comfortably…
Dear Roy, Today marks your two-year departure from this life. I will take a memorial walk around the Seward Park Loop with our family to honor and remember you and sprinkle some of your ashes in another one of your…
Christmas has arrived again, I am still here, and Roy is not. The first Christmas after Roy’s death was bearable only because it was built on a foundation of determination, numbness, and fear. The numbness and fear have subsided…
Roy has been dead for 471 days; my journey on the glass bridge to widowhood continues. The crossing is predictable now. Some grief therapists would say that I have reached an “emotional turning point.” I think about our life together…
April 12, 2014, the day Roy came home to die. The fog has rolled in again as the anniversary of Roy’s death approaches. The heaviness comes and goes and the reality that he is never coming back sinks deeper into…
Dear Roy, A year has passed since that awful day on March 17 when we found out you had cancer. One month from diagnosis until death, still unbelievable! I cannot say that I have moved very far on the journey…
Roy and I left for Belize on February 8, 2014, which would be our last vacation together and only a few weeks before his death. I now know that his body was wracked with horrific gastric cancer and metastatic disease…
January 27,1951 is Roy’s birthday. He had 20 birthday celebrations behind him the year we met. When he died 63 celebrations had passed. My writing between Thanksgiving and New Years was dark; I encountered an opaque glass overpass. “Just get…
Two hundred nineteen days ago Roy died. I am sitting in my living room with tears in my eyes. It is the Saturday before Thanksgiving. Normally, we would be planning our holiday; our shopping trip to the market, making sure…
Living is a balancing act! Balancing complicated emotions such as grief, loss, joy, and hope are like the changing seasons. As summer transitions into autumn I feel the loss of Roy in every leaf that falls from a tree, in…