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Why I Write
It’s 5 am and the house is dark. The only light in the kitchen comes from the button on the dishwasher, telling me that it is now clean. The birds aren’t even up yet, but I am. I’ve been here often, in this place and at this time. It has been my writing spot for many years, especially before the sun was up. I didn’t make a conscious effort to wake up in the wee hours of the morning after Shawn died, but it often happened. I’d lay in bed for a while, tossing and turning, my mind often filled with anxiety. Were the kids okay? What was that rattle…
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It Is a Lie
I knew I had to tell my children, as they’d find out from their friends eventually. I knew I needed to tell them quickly and in a way that made them feel safe. I would keep it simple, tell them only the basic facts. Yes, there was a shooting at an elementary school. Yes, children died. Yes, it is very, very sad. No, they don’t need to worry about their own safety. And so I did just that. I thought I was doing a good job until Tommy looked up at me with his big eyes and said very slowly, “why?” It broke me. Claire, in her typical reaction, immediately…
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“I’m Alone But I Ain’t Lonely”
A few months ago, Austin came home from school and announced that he was going to try out for the school musical. We were a bit surprised. Claire is the performer in our family. For years, when Claire would put on shows for our family, Austin was the stage manager. He never really seemed to mind. And now he was trying out for a musical! I asked him if his friends were trying out. “A few of them,” he said, but when I pressed him further he acknowledged that none of his closest group of friends would be doing it. Those kids – the ones he hangs out with every…
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Things That Remain: Risk (Part 4 of 4)
In this four-part series, I discuss the things that remain for me (and for some of my readers) in the years after widowhood. For many years, I convinced myself that if I just did all the right things, nothing bad would happen. I knew it was a stupid way to think. I’d lost my mom young, so I knew random horror was out there in the world. But I figured I’d had my share of bad luck already, so as long as I didn’t invite any more, life would be okay. After Shawn died, I obsessed about the unfairness of his death. Furthermore, I was irate that all the hard…
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Things That Remain: Accomplishment (Part 3 of 4)
In this four-part series, I discuss the things that remain for me (and for some of my readers) in the years after widowhood. I sobbed the first time I tried to change the wiper fluid in my car. I didn’t know how to do it. I mean, I had just turned 39 years old for chrissakes, an age at which you should know how to do such a thing. I’d been widowed for about two months and had pulled into a gas station to get gas and clean the dirty windshield. Here’s what happened, from the blog post, “Who’s Saving Our Basement?“ I got out to clean my windshield and…
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We Will Not Look Away From You
The first weekend in May was extraordinarily monumental for our family. Or at least that was how it seemed in the weeks leading up to it. I’d looked forward to this weekend for months. We’d sent out invitations and picked out outfits and planned for lots of fun. Nana and Pop would be coming down, too. I was ready for two big events: our adoption party on Saturday, and Rite 13, the coming-of-age ceremony for Claire at our church, on Sunday. Saturday morning we got up early and my mind was already spinning. I needed to clean the bathrooms and order pizza and organize who would be at Austin’s baseball…
There’s No Handbook for How to Do This
