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Letter to Myself: 1 Month (part 1 of 3)
(In this series, I write letters to myself at three different time periods: 1 month after Shawn died, 6 months after Shawn died, and a year after Shawn died. This is what I wish I could have known.) Hey – it’s me. Yes, it’s your future self, the person you’ll be two-and-a-half years from now. No, I cannot tell you everything about your future. But I’d like to talk to you a little bit about how things are going right now. It still doesn’t seem real, does it? Shawn was just alive. He was at Austin’s baseball game just a few months ago in November, but he’s missing all of…
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And Then I Am Crying
Tommy is outside, screaming with joy. He’s hanging on the side of the above-ground pool that’s killed all the grass around it and he’s laughing really hard. “Don’t splash me!” he screams at Austin, but it’s obvious he wants his brother to keep playing this silly game with him. I watch him for a moment. Upstairs, my partner Chris is working. He’s sanding down a wall he just spackled, and I can hear the sports talk radio he’s put on for background noise. It’s Sunday, and we are both trying to prep for the week and get projects done around the house. I am peeling cucumbers for soup. I decide…
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You Can Do This. You Are Doing This.
Sometimes when I’m on a run, I feel real clarity about my life. There’s something about the way that running strips down my insecurities and worries and eventually – usually near the end – I can often feel answers to questions I’m pondering. This only happens when I run alone. For the past few months, I’ve been running much more frequently with my partner Chris, and for much of late June and early July, I was sidelined with an ankle injury. I’ve only just started running solo again, and while I much prefer to chat with a friend or with my partner while I run, I also see the important…
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You’re Not Really a Widow Anymore
A few days ago, Austin woke up early and came downstairs. I had been writing, but I paused to talk to him for a few minutes as he ate his cereal. We discussed what we were going to do that day, and then he wanted to know what I was doing on my computer. “I’m trying to figure out what to write for my blog,” I told him. “Do you have any ideas?” “There’s not really anything for you to write about anymore,” he said, simply. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Well, you’re not really a widow anymore,” he replied. When I gently asked him why he thought this,…
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The Earring
I heard the clink of the earring on the tile before I even realized I had dropped it. I looked down at the blank floor. “Damn!” I said (under my breath because I’m trying to swear less frequently in front of my kids). I bent down and tried to look under the bathroom vanity. Clearly, the earring had fallen down into the crack under it. I couldn’t see much, so I went into the boys’ room to get a flashlight. Austin was reading a book. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I dropped my diamond earring somewhere in the bathroom,” I said. “I need your flashlight to try and find it.” He…
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My Love Language
I can hear the murmur of his voice coming from upstairs. It is so early that the birds have only just started to chirp and the sky is still a bit dark. A few minutes ago, I heard the patter of little feet – they are Tommy’s, I’m sure, as he is always the first awake – and then the rustling of the covers. After a moment, the reading began. It is not the first time that he has read to them. They are almost done with the book he started just a few weeks ago, as he reads to them at night and whenever we all need to take…
There’s No Handbook for How to Do This
