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Dreams of Shawn
I’ve always had a lot of dreams. And also a number of nightmares. When I was little, those dreams were about playgrounds and neighborhood friends. My recurring nightmare was about a mean witch who tried to cook me in a pot. As I grew, my dreams were about the good things around me (getting asked to prom by someone I liked), and my nightmares were about my fears (making a fool of myself at a school assembly). As my mom grew sicker, sometimes these nightmares were actually scary. Once she died, I often had nightmares where my dad or my sister would die too. So I guess it’s not strange…
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Reasonable Positivity
Shawn always used to say that his big goal in life was to be a middle-tier bureaucrat. It made people laugh when he’d say it. Didn’t he want to be the Secretary of Defense or something? No, he’d tell everyone, he just wanted to make policy that mattered and write things other people wanted to read and play with his kids on the weekends. It’s something that I always really admired, even when his career was taking off. He didn’t need the spotlight. He also didn’t subscribe to this brand of “everything and everyone has to be the best in order to be good.” Sometimes, reaching for the middle was…
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Hello, 2022… (Part 2 of 2)
Hello, 2022. Hello love stories. Hello to embracing the hard things we have to face, and laughing at the joys we get to have. I think we’ll find a lot of them this year. Hello to long runs and walks with friends, backyard barbecues with family and long adventures on bikes with Chris. We haven’t beat you yet, Covid, but we’ve learned to still have fun with you around. Hello to letting others accompany me in my grief. No one can fix it. But you can be by my side. Hello to love that I can see and share with you all. Hello to seeing (and hearing!) the love between…
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See It to Believe It
It was a year into widowhood, and an old group of friends of mine had suggested a short trip out West, a long weekend where we could reunite and also lose ourselves in the landscape of the desert. It had been a good decision to go, I realized, as I sat with them the first night and drank margaritas and tried to brainstorm how to find me a man who could drown my sorrows, at least for a night. We laughed a lot and talked about the days before we had children. They spent a good amount of time listening to me talk about my terrible first dating experiences and…
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Grief, Not Sadness
Some people I know have beautifully decorated, color-coordinated Christmas trees currently displayed in their houses. I am not one of those people. My tree is plastic, to start. Claire’s allergic to trees, so we had to get a plastic one many years ago, but also it was just way easier than going out to cut down a tree with three little kids. It doesn’t smell like a tree and it doesn’t really look like a tree, so my solution is to cover it with all the ornaments we have and try and hide the plastic-ness of it. I have some of the ornaments my mom once put on our tree.…
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Other People’s Joy
Joy! It’s the word I see everywhere this time of year, a sentiment (“joy!”) that I loved so much before widowhood and yet it was the one word that drove me completely crazy after Shawn died. Why was everyone insisting that I feel joy, just because the calendar was turned to the December page? It was maddening. And yet, I also wanted to feel that joy. I wanted it…and I couldn’t find it. What did that mean? The first year of widowhood, I went through at least a hundred holiday cards, looking for one that didn’t say, “The Merriest Time of Year!” or some similar sentiment. As I wrote in…
There’s No Handbook for How to Do This
