Telling the Hairdresser Your Husband Died

In the intangible book of widowhood, they left out a chapter. It’s the chapter on telling your hairdresser your husband died. As women, hairdressers are our confidants. We talk to them about our day, our love lives, our kids, and anything else we can cram into that blissful time of being pampered. We were chatting... Continue Reading →

Re-Visiting the Hospital

I went to visit a friend in the hospital today. It was the first time I had been in that hospital since Bryan died. I wasn’t sure how that was going to turn out. Would I stop at the door and run screaming in the other direction? Would I even make it into the parking... Continue Reading →

I Hit A Brick Wall

I hit THE WALL today. via GIPHY   I didn’t even know that was a thing. I’m trucking along, trying to find balance, trying to stay busy, trying to keep my sanity, when all of a sudden, WHAM. I run smack-dab into the most solid, mental wall I’ve ever encountered. I Googled grief and brick... Continue Reading →

Grief Turns You Stupid

I’m rarely at a loss for words even though I enjoy comfortable silences with people close to me. I can talk about most anything and I enjoy talking. I love hearing people’s thoughts on most everything and sharing my own opinions – on sports, politics, religion, and good movies. All of that stopped about a... Continue Reading →

Praying for the Dead

I grew up Southern Baptist where we didn't typically pray for the dead. We prayed for the sick and we would pray for the people left behind after death, but prayers for the dead just didn't happen. It was as if they had played the cosmic game of Pac-Man and once they got eaten by... Continue Reading →

Not Merely Pretty

Every once in a while, I feel like this needs to be re-visited. Our society gets hung up way too much on an impossible standard of beauty. No matter how physically beautiful someone is, there's always some flaw to be found or someone more beautiful. That bar is a unicorn - never to be seen... Continue Reading →

Forbidden Memories

A few weeks ago, I had blogged about memories popping into my head from our hospital stay back in February. It was a long, brutal, emotional month and in the days following Bryan's death, those memories would creep into my mind threatening to consume me. I would slam the door in their face. I wasn't... Continue Reading →

65 Roses

A couple of years before Bryan was born, a little 4-year-old overheard his mother talking on the phone about Cystic Fibrosis. His young brain heard "65 roses". That marked the beginning of the unconventional nickname for the disease that ultimately took Bryan's life. Today, I got that rose tattooed on my right arm as a... Continue Reading →

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