• Boyfriend and son of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley work with tools in garage
    New Perspectives

    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…

  • Empty bench on boardwalk for blog by DC widow writer Marjorie Brimley
    Ask A Widow

    Ask a Widow: Dating is Hard When You Try to Predict the Future

    I’ve said it before, but I’ll repeat it again: people write to me all the time about dating. Usually, I get private messages on my blog or my social media pages. The questions range from the existential (“does it mean I don’t still love my late husband if I want to date?”) to the mundane (“what’s the best dating website for widows?”) I try and answer the questions as best I can, but I’m no expert. I’m merely someone who has written openly about my own experience. Often, readers give me their backstory before asking me about dating. It might go something like this: My husband and I were married…

  • Children of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley play at cemetery
    Missing Shawn

    Ghosts in the Backyard

    My children are currently obsessed with ghosts. They somehow discovered this app for their iPad that lets you “discover” ghosts that are living nearby. You can search for these ghosts and then “talk” to them via the app. They are a tiny bit scared by it all, but mostly it’s a thrilling distraction to our daily boredom. I have been watching them play this game (is it a game?) for weeks. It never seems to become boring, and all three of them like to play it together. Even better, it’s something they can play outside. So I guess I should like it. And I do. I think it’s harmless, childhood…

  • Pantry of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley
    Things That Suck

    Disaster Prep and the Coronavirus

    When Shawn was alive, we always had a disaster plan. We designated a place that we would meet outside the city if we had to escape, we had canned goods and backpacks of supplies, and we owned a damn generator. I mean, we were ready. But really, I wasn’t ready at all. I was just married to Shawn, and he was a tiny bit obsessed with the idea of an impending apocalypse. Usually, he brought it up in a semi-joking way, talking about the zombie apocalypse or something similarly silly. But sometimes – like when he got an inside look at some type of government planning in case of a…

  • DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley on bench with children and flowers

    Marjorie’s Favorite Blog Posts (there are 300 now!)

    300!!! Okay, I still haven’t written a book. I haven’t even really managed to outline one. But I have 300 blog posts under my belt (and some other articles as well) so I think I can finally say that I’m a writer. Or something like that. Anyway, today’s post is a highlight of those 300 blog posts – you can click on each link to send you to that specific story. These posts below are some of my favorites, though there are others that I love. I tried to pick a range of posts, so that each one tells a little bit of a different story. Maybe you come to…

  • Grant and children of DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley put arms around each other in alley
    Family & Friends

    Grant Showed Us the Way

    Below is a piece by my friend and neighbor, Mark. He tells the story of how his son Grant and my son Austin became close friends in the time after Shawn’s death. He begins his story as Shawn is in the hospital. Marjorie was surrounded by best friends and family, which was somewhat of a relief.  We were just neighbors who mostly found each other in the adjoining alley where our kids played basketball and learned to ride bikes.  The last time Marjorie and I spoke was about three weeks before the service.  There still was hope that Shawn would survive.  I brought meatballs and pasta for the week.  After…