• Claire daughter of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley
    Holidays

    Life is Unfair. But It Can Be Beautiful, Too.

    Sometimes I catch you, when you think no one is looking, smiling in the mirror and doing some of your favorite moves. They are moves I remember from when I was about your age. They are cheerleading moves. I mean, really, cheerleading? That’s your chosen sport? But no matter how surprised I am by this, you don’t care. You love cheerleading. I can’t be upset about this. I was also a cheerleader in high school. I’m sure my own mother saw me do the exact same moves when I was your age. But what strikes me, when I see you practicing a cheer, is not how flexible you are or…

  • DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimely writes by fire
    Holidays

    42

    Today is my birthday. It’s also the 3-year anniversary of my first blog post, “My 39th birthday…” Over the past few months, I’ve started to re-read many of these old blog posts, and sometimes I am downright shocked at the degree of openness I put out there, right in the beginning. So as I thought about my birthday this year, I decided to re-read this part of that post from three years ago: Here’s the thing – it’s not that I feel insecure in the same way I did at age 21, worried about how my hair looked or whether I was wearing the right jeans or drinking the right…

  • DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley with partner
    Holidays

    …Hello, 2021 (Part 2 of 2)

    Hello, 2021. Hello first sip of coffee in the morning, reminding me that life’s small pleasures are worth savoring. Hello risk. I’m comfortable with you now. (Though I’ll still wear my mask until we all get that vaccine.) Hello laughter at all times of the day. Even when it’s 10 am and I’m trying to learn first grade subtraction while teaching high school government online. Even when it’s 10 pm and I’m exhausted from the day. Hello joy. Hello Friday pizza night. You were the best night at the end of every week, especially the night that Chris proposed. I think you’re around to stay. Hello vulnerability.  You lead to…

  • DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley runs away from camera
    Holidays

    2020, It’s Time to Go… (Part 1 of 2)

    It’s time to go, 2020. It’s time to go, face masks and hand sanitizer and six feet of social distance. Not right away, I know. But soon, I hope. Soon. It’s time to go, waking up at 3 am. It’s time to go, guilt and anxiety. Or at least the really bad guilt and anxiety that comes after tragic loss. I’m healing now, so I really just have space for regular guilt and anxiety. It’s time to go, online dating. It’s time to go, nightmares. I know I also said this last year (and the year before that), but those really terrible ones? For real, no more nightmares, please. It’s…

  • Christmas ornament for blog by DC widow writer Marjorie Brimley
    Holidays

    Gingee

    Every single year at the end of November, it happens again. No matter how much I try and remember, no matter where I look, I just cannot find what I need. I cannot find Gingee. Gingee is our Christmas elf. She’s actually just a stuffed doll that Shawn and I got when Claire was 4 or 5 during the elf-on-the-shelf craze (Claire named our elf Gingee at the time.) For years, we pretended that Gingee would show up during the month of December to watch over the kids and “report back to Santa at night.” Because Gingee had to fly to the North Pole when everyone was sleeping, she often…

  • Tommy's drawing of mom for DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley
    Holidays

    Water and Fire

    The first Thanksgiving we spent without Shawn was really hard. We were with our dear friends Josh and Becky, out on Josh’s family farm, surrounded by people who loved us. But it felt heavy. And I was Just. So. Tired. One of the nights, Tommy woke up at 2 am, crying about something, and I couldn’t comfort him. Eventually, I brought him into my bed where he calmed down, his snotty face resting against my chest. I stayed awake for a long time, thinking about how I was the only person who could comfort him. Yes, there was a whole household of people there who loved him, but there was…