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Grandpa Tom
It’s crazy that I’ve written dozens of blog posts, but have yet to write one solely on my father. I think the reason is that every time I sit down to write it, I think, “I can’t possibly capture my dad in one blog post!” Which of course is true. But since he left on Monday to return to Oregon for the summer, I feel compelled to at least try and capture a bit of what makes him so wonderful. For anyone who knows him, you know that my dad loves just a few things in life: family, golf and Texas football. He retired a few years ago with the…
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Our Forever House
Three weeks after my husband died, I received a hand-written letter in the mail that read, in part, “Hello…I send my condolences to your family in your time of grievance. My wife and I are real estate investors and…we want to buy your property and relieve you of the burden of having to keep up with the house.” It went on from there, discussing the virtues of his business and how it would be a good idea for a new widow to sell the house. He implied that I’d never be able to handle such a responsibility on my own and included his email and phone number. Horrified, I took…
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Straight to Heaven
About two hours after Shawn’s colon surgery began, the head surgeon came out to talk with me and my friend Jason about how everything was going. “There were a few complications,” he began. My heart seemed to stop and time slowed down. “After we put in the scope, we encountered pus, indicating an perforated colon,” the surgeon told me, “and so we had to convert to a standard open operation.” I looked at Jason. He looked calm. “Okay,” he said. The surgeon continued to explain what happened, assuring me that even with the changes, everything had gone well. I turned again to Jason, who looked at me and said, “this…
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I Knew You Before
Sometimes, when I try to remember my life before Shawn, I draw a blank. I can remember fun college parties, my awesome job working at a summer camp, and a general warm feeling about childhood. But right now, everything still seems a bit hazy, and thus my memories aren’t always so clear. For those memories, I need people from way back when. I need people like my friend Gabrielle. Gabe and I met in Italy, thrown together as roommates in a city where we didn’t speak the language or know the culture. It was the spring of 2000, and we were young and stupid and adventurous. We had a deliriously…
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Why I Can’t Call You Back
I have at least a dozen unanswered voicemails on my phone. That might not seem like a lot, but I just deleted all of my voicemails a few days ago. Sure, there’s one from the dentist and another from the cemetery (there’s a phrase I never thought I’d write) but most of the voicemails are from friends and family. I recently got a new phone that actually transcribes my voicemails. It’s great. I can tap on the voicemail and see basically what someone said on the phone. I use this feature all the time, and then if I’m feeling especially grateful for the love, or guilty about not being in…
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All Kinds of Therapy
I can’t even remember all of the people who sat in my kitchen and listened to me cry in the first few weeks of Shawn’s diagnosis. But I do remember them being there, and listening to me, and not usually knowing what to say, but staying nonetheless. They validated my feelings that things were horrible, that it was unfair, and that everything was impossible. “Of course you’re overwhelmed/frustrated/terribly sad” said everyone. No one tried to cheer me up with ridiculous optimism, and almost everyone let me really express my emotions. This was a far cry from how people reacted when my mom died. Granted, I was only 19, so most people…
There’s No Handbook for How to Do This
