Why am I not happy? Why do I feel so stuck sometimes? Is it grief? Yes. That’s part of it. But there are times when I procrastinate. There are times when I don’t feel like doing anything. There are times when I simply want to stay in bed and not get up to face another day. Oh yeah. That’s what grief does. But sometimes, I know it’s more than just the grief. And somehow, I think we may all feel the same way sometimes. Perhaps a new perspective could prove valuable? In recent weeks, as I have continued to...
Sometimes, I can’t think of anything to write. This week has been one of those weeks. Today’s post is going to be short. And I am trying to find the words to write. The rules that govern my content on one of the blogs I write for (I am writing a post for three different blogs each week) say that I can’t mention politics, because it’s too divisive. Nor can I give advice or talk about my personal coaching business. So, what do I want to write about this week? Weeds. Yep. Weeds. This week, I spent a couple of...
On Tuesday, April 7, 2020, I woke up at 3:49 AM to my phone vibrating. It was a call from my middle daughter, Laura. It was every parent’s nightmare. As I answered, awakened from a deep sleep I had only fallen into three hours earlier (because as I came to bed I discovered a roof leak coming through the ceiling right outside my master bedroom), I could hear crying. It was my oldest daughter, Rachel, crying. Our family… 20-years ago. Before cancer. Before death. Before being alone. In that moment, I can’t tell you how much it hurt to be...
If you have read any of my previous posts, you will by now know that my favorite band is a Scottish rock group from the 80s called Big Country. In 1984, they released their second album, Steeltown. That album debuted at number 1 in the UK. There is a particular song on that album that resonates deeply with me at the moment. That song is called Tall Ships Go and the first verse (and chorus) lyrics are: I dreamed I heard that you were dead. I dreamed I searched an empty bed.For a sign of you…And the sea called hard...
That word. “Anxiety.” It used to drive me nuts when Suzanne, or my daughters, would mention they had it. The reason was: I didn’t get it—literally and figuratively. Anxiety always seemed to provide a convenient excuse to not get involved or do something. It was never a problem when we had fun things to do… But something serious? That was another story. One or all of them was always getting anxious when something serious was taking place… In all my life (I’m inching closer to 52 years old now), I had never experienced anxiety. In fact, I never really felt...
When I became a widower, I was hopelessly lost. My senses went into overdrive and my feelings were so intense and alien to me, I was in a complete state pf panic and a total fog. It felt like I was in a freefall. It was as if the rug that I had been walking on all of my life had suddenly and dramatically been pulled out from beneath my feet and there was no floor underneath me. The sensation of falling into an abyss had never been more acute. The saving grace were the friends and family that showed...
What is an unalome? It’s a symbol. There are many styles of unalome, but this is a post about the meaning. But one particular unalome has an even more profound meaning for me than the “definition” of the unalome. The unalome symbol represents the path to enlightenment in the Buddhist culture. The dots at the start of the symbol represent when we are conceived and then born. Essentially, this is the moment we become something from nothing. The spirals are meant to symbolize the twists and turns in life, and the straight line the moment one reaches enlightenment, or “peace and...
Among the many things I have been told since Suzanne died was that I should not try to distract myself from the grief. No matter what the form, a distraction (from what I can gather) is anything I do that stops me from thinking about Suzanne’s death and my love for her while I am in the process of thinking about it (and feeling sad, upset, angry, etc.). What I find is that it’s nearly impossible not to get distracted by something. Children, work, TV, walking, doing anything… Pretty much whatever one may do after our person dies will be...
In the wake of Suzanne dying, I struggled to find true peace. How did others do it, I wondered? Some turn to “god”, religion, etc. Others turn to self-medicating (drugs, alcohol, etc.). Some find it in more unconventional ways. I finally fell into the last category. When Suzanne died, my whole world shattered. The girls suffered. Her parents suffered. I suffered. How would I ever find any peace, tranquility or serenity in my life again? Life is strange when someone you truly love dies. I can only talk about my own experience, but it definitely seemed difficult to find anything...
That’s me. It’s a label. Anyone who truly knows me, knows I don’t like labels. But this is probably the only one I proudly wear these days. I used to wear the label husband, too. But because my wife died, I am reticent to use the label “widower”, even if that’s what I am to many. I am still a husband. Always will be. I was Suzanne’s husband and she died my wife, so I will always and forever be her husband. But dad. That’s a label I am still wearing. Proudly. This post isn’t about the label, though. It’s...
