• Paper and coffee
    New Perspectives

    Three Grief Specialists to Follow Right Now

    Maybe you’re grieving the loss of a spouse right now or maybe you’re grieving something else. I don’t know why everyone comes to my blog, but today, I want to highlight three Black women whose work focuses on grief, loss and healing. Their candid discussions are relevant for everyone, and as you’ll note, two of these women are also widows. You can find the links to their various social media pages and websites below. Sabra Robinson is a fellow widow who runs the website and podcast Black Women Widows Empowered. While her group was created specifically for Black and Brown widowed women, her work is relevant to anyone who is…

  • Books like that described by DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley
    New Perspectives

    Two Widow Books You Should Read Right Now

    Over the past week, I’ve been asked by friends and readers whether I have any resources about widowhood and race. So today’s post is about two books I highly recommend: Black Widow, by Leslie Streeter and From Scratch, by Tembi Locke. In Black Widow, Leslie Streeter tells the story of the sudden death of her husband and the events that followed. But that’s not the whole book. In fact, she goes back to recount her early love story with her husband – one that was complicated by race and religion. One of the reasons I love her book so much is that she talks about so many difficult issues (where…

  • Bricks for blog post by DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley
    New Perspectives

    My White Privilege

    My heart sped up as I listened to Atlanta mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms speak last weekend: Let me just speak to what’s happening here today.  Above everything else, I am a mother. I am a mother to four black children in America, one of whom is 18 years old. And when I saw the murder of George Floyd, I hurt like a mother would hurt.  And on yesterday, when I heard there were rumors about violent protests in Atlanta, I did what a mother would do. I called my son and I said, ‘Where are you?’ I said, ‘I cannot protect you,’ and black boys shouldn’t be out today.  My headspace…

  • DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley walks holding hands with partner in field

    Second, As In Again

    For over a decade, there was one photo that always hung in Shawn’s office. In it, he cradles me in his arms, my white wedding dress draped over his body. Our heads touch at our temples. We are beaming. It is one of my favorite photos, rivaled only by a few I have of my children. When Shawn died, I moved the photo to a special bookshelf in the basement bedroom, right above where the kids kept their board games. I wanted them to see it every day and know that there had once been a great love story in their house. Often when I’d go to the basement to…

  • Claire, daughter of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley, plays guitar
    Family & Friends

    5th Grade Graduation

    Today is your last day of 5th grade. When you were just 5 years old, you held the hands of both of your parents as you stood on the big field, waiting for the first day of kindergarten. It was loud and filled with hundreds of people and you were uncharacteristically quiet. Your eyes were big and you squeezed my hand. I squeezed it back three times to say, “I love you” in our secret code. When it was time for the adults to leave, you clung to me and to your father. You cried and screamed for us, and in the end, your teacher had to hold you while…

  • Dawn over a field like that referenced by DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley
    Things That Suck

    3 am

    I woke up at 3 am last night. I was confused for a moment, as it wasn’t yet light and I hadn’t been awoken by my children. I sat in the confusion for a moment, and then I felt a warm body next to mine. I felt calm as I laid my head back down to sleep. This does not seem like the start of a dramatic story, but when I reflected on it in the morning, I realized how far I’ve come. Like many people, I’ve woken up at 3 am throughout my life. As a college kid, on the couch that had enveloped me in sleep. As a…