• Family of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley next to barn
    Family & Friends

    FaceTime with my Family

    “Tell Chris the family loves him.” It was a text from my dad, something that might not seem like a lot, but from my dad, it was a big deal. My father is a man who is loyal to the people around him, and who loves me and my sister and his grandkids so much, but he is also someone who doesn’t always express that emotion so readily in writing. His birthday cards to me always say something like, “Enjoy your birthday. Love, Dad.” My dad is obviously not unfeeling or unsentimental – on the contrary, he’s been devoted to our family for the entirety of his life. First, to…

  • Children of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley at wedding
    Love and Chris

    Weddings and Other Complicated Endeavors

    When Shawn and I got married, almost six years had passed since my mother’s death. I was 25, bright-eyed and excited about the future, in a dress with a skirt so big it looked like something a barbie doll might wear. It was a great weekend, and every single one of my extended family members showed up. The rehearsal dinner was held in the backyard of my childhood home. We got tables from somewhere (maybe the church?) and my sister put candles in bowls filled with rice like she’d once seen at a bar. A local chef cooked for us, and then – one by one – each of my…

  • Family of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley
    Love and Chris

    Opinions on Kinetic Sand

    The other day, Tommy got out his kinetic sand and played with it for hours at the dining room table. When he was done he cleaned it up. For those of you with young children, you know that “cleaning up” kinetic sand is just like cleaning up real sand, except that it is also neon and somehow sticks to surfaces even worse than the real thing. “This stuff is terrible,” Chris said, as he tried to scrape little bits of it out of the crevices of the table. “I know,” I said. “I don’t even know why we have it except that Tommy loves it.” We joked about what kind…

  • Sunrise on beach for blog by DC widow writer Marjorie Brimley
    Ask A Widow

    Ask a Widow: Is This a Good Idea?

    My “Ask a Widow” column was really just an experiment when I started it over a year ago. Did people actually want my advice? Wasn’t this blog supposed to just be about my life? But the questions came in – slowly at first, and then in increasing numbers as time went on. I heard from widows who just wanted to vent and non-widows who were trying to connect with widows and all sorts of people who couldn’t figure out what to do about parenting or work or finding love again. Sometimes the people who wrote me just wanted some hope (“please tell me if gets easier!”) but other times they…

  • Son of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley looks at crossword puzzle
    Family & Friends

    Guess Random Numbers

    Every night at dinner, we do highs and lows. Last week, Tommy had a big low, and we all talked about it. That day, he had a math assessment. He’s in first grade, so this assessment didn’t seem too difficult. He just had to do basic subtraction. But he struggled, and we could hear him sigh – and then cry – from the dining room table where he does virtual school. We texted his teacher about it, and she was kind and loving and gave us some strategies to help him. We tried to encourage him and he finally finished and felt relatively accomplished. We were glad he persevered through…

  • 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…