My final blog post for the Hope for Widows Foundation, Grieve the Write Way - Part 3 of a 3-Part Series is now available.
Year 2. Still sucks ass. Even more in some ways. You were a wonderful father, E. Your influence has not died.
Father’s Day this year sucks. My father is gone. My husband is gone. My father-in-law is with his daughters far away. It sucked last year, too, because despite the fact no one was saying it out loud, we all kind of knew that it was my husband’s last one. We figured that he wouldn’t make it to this Father’s Day, that his cancer would, at some point in the near future, do what the doctors said it was going to do. They were glaringly wrong on their estimates in how long he had to live. Way wrong. Father’s Day 2016…he would be gone in just over 3 months.
He has been gone, now, for almost 9 months. It blows my mind, and I still cannot believe that he is not coming back from wherever he went. I cannot grieve too much publicly, as this particular loss and type of grief…
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My latest blog post is up with the Hope For Widows Foundation. Check it out!
Last year, our first year without Eric, my girls and I traveled to New York City to hide among millions of people for Christmas. It was the right choice. I did not lift a finger. I did not put up one decoration. I did not bake one cookie. I didn't care about anything but disappearing … Continue reading Half Ass Christmas
Beautiful post from my resilient baby girl on the devastating loss of her father, my husband.
Nobody can prepare you for the ache of loss. Death is something that strikes and leaves a permanent wound. This wound is ever present and imprisons you mentally and physically. It’s like hearing a new word and suddenly being cognitively aware of it being used around you, all the time. It’s comparable to someone you love having a white Mercedes and now you see it everywhere your head turns. Except with grief, it’s with thousands of different memories, logos, words, pictures, things and thoughts almost every minute of the day. And Father’s Day, was the worst reality check grief has given me thus far. A not-so-subtle spotlight shown on someone I am now without. A spotlight with batteries that never seem to run out of charge, and I’m in the front row for the rest of my life.
I miss togetherness the most. It feels as though my family must…
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