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The Marine
While traveling this summer, I had one day that was particularly bad. I was alone with my three kids and we’d been bumped from our original flight to a later one. We were seated in random seats across the very last row of the plane, and everyone was exhausted. As we got on, I instructed Claire to hold Tommy’s hand and make sure he didn’t fall in the crack between the airplane and the tarmac. When we got to the last row, a kind woman there offered to switch seats so that all three kids could sit in a row. She said she didn’t mind and then offered me the…
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That Poor Girl
Right after Shawn’s funeral, I was standing in the church greeting people, when I heard someone around me say, “Oh, that poor girl.” I was in a deep fog, and so I didn’t really think much of it. I was also standing with Claire, so it’s possible whomever said it was talking about her. But for some reason, it’s one of the things I remember from the line at the church. Isn’t that odd? Of all the things to stick in my head, that was one of them. I started to think about it the other day, and it made me remember my mom’s funeral, and something that happened there. …
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The Power of the Word “Widow”
A few weeks ago, I heard through friends that the General Manager of Millie’s, our favorite neighborhood restaurant, had died after being shot a few weeks prior. He left behind a wife and baby. I didn’t know them, but I can’t stop thinking about his family. Many people I know posted things on social media or shared text messages about what had happened. Everyone expressed sympathy for his wife. I reached out to a few friends who knew her, offering condolences and any help I could offer when she’s ready. But you know what I felt for her? Sympathy. “It’s so awful,” I said to my sister. “Another young widow.”…
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Dear Girl on the Phone from UCLA
I’m so sorry that you had to get me, of all people, when you innocently called to ask for money. I’m so sorry I picked up. I never do. But I saw the 310 area code and I thought it might be an old friend from college and really I just wanted to chat with someone tonight. Someone who once knew me and loved me. Someone from the past who remembered when I was young and fun and had not a care in the world. But it was you. You read from a script and you asked me how I was doing and you told me about all of the…
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6 Months
In the past 3 weeks, I’ve endured Father’s Day, Shawn’s birthday and our wedding anniversary. Today, it’s the 6 month marker since his death. I woke up nervous, though I’m not sure why. It’s not like anything has changed today, and the specific time period of six months is a made-up marker anyway. But I’ve now lived a half of a year without Shawn, and that is something that gives me pause. If you had asked me a year ago if I would be able to handle six entire months without my husband, I would definitely have said “no.” And yet, here I am. I am not whole anymore, but…
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Go, Go, Go
Shawn and I met in Japan. We were just out of college, two young kids looking for adventure and a job that would support our wanderings. We ended up in the same town teaching English, me at the middle school and him at the high school. We loved travel. From the first moment we met, we talked about where we wanted to go and what we would do in those places. When we spent a weekend day together even before we were dating, we would get up early and explore whatever city we were in for at least 12 hours. In fact, I have a vivid memory of one night…
There’s No Handbook for How to Do This
