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Family
At the end of last year, I got on a shuttle bus at the airport with my kids and my dad. Tommy sat with my dad and I sat with Claire and Austin. We were on our way to Texas and everyone was really excited. At the next stop, another family got on. It was a mom, a dad and two kids. They sat together and the parents chatted happily with the kids. To most outside observers, the scene was nothing out of the ordinary. But it struck me how much watching them bothered me. They were the family I was supposed to have. I’m sure they didn’t think much…
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“I Want Daddy to Come Back”
Earlier this week, I told my kids that I was going to go to the cemetery on the anniversary of their father’s death. “Do any of you want to come?” Austin and Tommy enthusiastically agreed. “I want to come too,” Claire said softly. I was happy. A year ago, she refused to go to the cemetery. She thought it would be too sad, and though she couldn’t quite explain it, she worried about re-living the moment her father’s body was put in the ground. But when she finally went, on Shawn’s birthday last summer, she found it to be a place that was calming for her. She still doesn’t go…
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Christmas Eve
A few days ago, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw someone complaining that her child had just radically changed his Christmas list. “He wants a dozen laser tag guns now! And I just finished all of the wrapping!” the person whined. I get it. These small details can be annoying when we have a million things going on. But do you know what it made me realize? At that point, five days before Christmas, I had purchased just one present for each of my children. ONE. Last year it wasn’t like this at all. I planned ahead and bought most of my presents in November, so when Shawn was…
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Just Because Your Husband Dies, You Don’t Necessarily Get the Job
I’ve mentioned it in other posts, but just in case you haven’t been following along closely: I applied for a new job at my school last month. I found out last Friday that I didn’t get it. To her credit, the principal told me herself. She didn’t beat around the bush, and she was thoughtful in the way that she told me. But those words, “we don’t have a position for you at this time,” almost crushed me in that moment. I understood that there were a dozen people applying for the same job, but I thought I had a good shot. And somewhere in the back of my mind…
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Decorating for Christmas
My front yard looks like something out of one of those bad Christmas movies. I’m serious. There are lights randomly strewn about, two fake deer, a dozen solar-powered candy canes and two massive inflatable figures – a snowman and a Santa. I bought none of this stuff – it was all Shawn. Last year, he set it all up even though he was in the emergency room less than 24 hours later. I know he worried that I wouldn’t be able to figure out the wiring system he used, and he had very specific ideas about how the lights should look. When I think back on it, I remember him…
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Santa Shawn
I can’t actually remember why we decided to throw our first Christmas party, but I do remember this: Shawn was adamant that he was going to dress up like Santa for it. He spent hours scouring the internet for the perfect outfit and he even bought new shoes and tiny fake eyeglasses. He tried on the outfit before the party and decided that his dark eyebrows gave him away, so he went to the drugstore and bought a white makeup pencil which he used to color in his eyebrows. He took it all very seriously. “You know the kids are TWO,” I told him, “so you don’t have to do all this. …
There’s No Handbook for How to Do This
