Warning: If you are my Mom or if you are someone to whom I gave birth, stop reading now. I mean it. Let me unburden myself in the only way I know how, without having to add extra worry about you worrying. Otherwise I will have to start a whole new blog under a pseudonym and I don’t want to. But I will, if I find out you read this. ****************** I no longer wake up in the morning with a burning desire to write. I haven’t written once since Chapter Two of Wendy’s Life began. (To refresh you, Chapter One was called “Life Partner Bites It” and Chapter Two is called “Covid.” I didn’t name eith ..read more

Today I woke up feeling that something was amiss which led to a quick mental review of  the obvious. Good sleep-ish? Check. Kids home safe and sound? Check. Everyone healthy? Check. Sun shining? Surprisingly, check. Despite having my full focus, Dread refused to show itself so I did the only reasonable thing I could do…I stayed in bed. I tried to wait it out but that knot in the pit of my stomach grew stronger and Dread kept knocking on the door. (I hate that fucker almost as much as cancer with a small “c”.) I decided to invite my baby girl for breakfast, thinking that some time with my favo ..read more

Today I was perusing my blog, as I sometimes like to do.  Reading it serves double duty for me.  It brings back little pieces of Ben and it also serves to remind me how far I’ve come. This post is for anyone out there who is new to this grieving bullshit.  It’s for anyone who may have recently lost their whole world and is wondering how life could ever be worth living again. Just hang on, because I promise you that it will not always feel like someone is reaching inside your chest with a rusty saw blade and carving out your heart and soul in jagged little pieces.  Not gonna lie – my experience ..read more

I’m writing this post on the eve of Ben’s four year death-aversary. I made that word up, but what else do you call it? I’m also writing it on my phone, so forgive any typos you may find. Since I last posted I have moved out of the home that Ben and I shared together and into my own. I’ve already celebrated two Christmases and his 50th birthday in this house, without him. Time, as they say, just seems to keep on ticking. When Ben died, the agony I felt was torturous. I felt lost in a way I cannot adequately describe. The fear felt as I imagine it must feel if one is pulled from their warm bed ..read more