• Picture of compass pointing to insurance for blog by DC widow writer Marjorie Brimley Hale
    New Perspectives

    Hypotheticals

    I have been trying to figure out what to do about some changes in my health insurance. It’s been a fun process! (If you’re American, you know that was said with great sarcasm.) I’ve spent the past couple of days calling health insurance companies to figure out what’s the best coverage for my family in the future. Yes, I can see some details on the papers they provide, but it is not enough for me. I need to talk to a person who can really understand my needs. Every time I call someone, I actually feel bad for the customer service representative who gets me. At first, I must seem…

  • Couple on bench for blog by DC widow writer Marjorie Brimley Hale
    Dating

    “I’m Dating a Widow…”

    …and things are very confusing. That was the start of an email I got a few weeks ago. It’s certainly not the first email I’ve received on this topic. Maybe it’s because if you put “date + widow” into Google, one of the few non-AARP articles that comes up on the first page is the one I wrote for Vox on dating as a young widow. The person who wrote to me (let’s call him Matt) wanted to know how to approach dating a widow who had a somewhat similar story to mine. Matt told me that his new love interest is a widow with kids who lost her spouse…

  • Computer at table for blog by DC widow writer Marjorie Brimley Hale
    New Perspectives

    Why I Write

    It’s 5 am and the house is dark. The only light in the kitchen comes from the button on the dishwasher, telling me that it is now clean. The birds aren’t even up yet, but I am. I’ve been here often, in this place and at this time. It has been my writing spot for many years, especially before the sun was up. I didn’t make a conscious effort to wake up in the wee hours of the morning after Shawn died, but it often happened. I’d lay in bed for a while, tossing and turning, my mind often filled with anxiety. Were the kids okay? What was that rattle…

  • Door to school for blog by DC widow writer Marjorie Brimley Hale
    Things That Suck

    It Is a Lie

    I knew I had to tell my children, as they’d find out from their friends eventually. I knew I needed to tell them quickly and in a way that made them feel safe. I would keep it simple, tell them only the basic facts. Yes, there was a shooting at an elementary school. Yes, children died. Yes, it is very, very sad. No, they don’t need to worry about their own safety. And so I did just that. I thought I was doing a good job until Tommy looked up at me with his big eyes and said very slowly, “why?” It broke me. Claire, in her typical reaction, immediately…

  • Son of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley Hale performs Newsies
    Family & Friends

    “I’m Alone But I Ain’t Lonely”

    A few months ago, Austin came home from school and announced that he was going to try out for the school musical. We were a bit surprised. Claire is the performer in our family. For years, when Claire would put on shows for our family, Austin was the stage manager. He never really seemed to mind. And now he was trying out for a musical! I asked him if his friends were trying out. “A few of them,” he said, but when I pressed him further he acknowledged that none of his closest group of friends would be doing it. Those kids – the ones he hangs out with every…

  • Soccer ball and cleats for blog by DC widow writer Marjorie Brimley Hale
    New Perspectives

    Things That Remain: Risk (Part 4 of 4)

    In this four-part series, I discuss the things that remain for me (and for some of my readers) in the years after widowhood. For many years, I convinced myself that if I just did all the right things, nothing bad would happen. I knew it was a stupid way to think. I’d lost my mom young, so I knew random horror was out there in the world. But I figured I’d had my share of bad luck already, so as long as I didn’t invite any more, life would be okay. After Shawn died, I obsessed about the unfairness of his death. Furthermore, I was irate that all the hard…