Friday, September 9, 2011


23 months, nearly to the day, since I lost my husband; I finally packed his clothes away in totes, and put them in the attic.

I did very well, and I am proud of myself.

It helped having moral support, and to have someone to tell, "this was his favorite", "I bought him this our first Christmas together", "he wore this on our first anniversary". Because, I still remember those things, and I hope I will never forget.

His clothes are not forgotten, they are simply tucked away safely for now. I have grand plans for preserving those memories later, right now I just have to get through today.


Friday, July 29, 2011


The truth is... I have some truths that I need to face.

So here it is.

We live in this house. It is a rent house, not ours.

Michael and I had dreamed of owning this house one day. It's a small house; 2 bedrooms and 1 bathroom. We closed in the garage when I was pregnant with Isabelle, so we would still have an office.

We had dreamed of owning a few different houses throughout our short marriage; so I guess,

truth #1 is we just wanted to own a home, it really didn't matter where.

The house is beginning to fall into disrepair. I could easily justify spending money on repairs in a home that I own, but no longer can I justify the expense in a home that I do not in fact, own. My landlords are old, and that is by no means any justification. I honestly believe that they could care less about the state of the house, as long as they get a check every month.

truth #2 it ain't gonna get better (or fixed, or dare I even fathom the idea that it be fixed correctly!!)

Money. It's what everything always seems to boil right down to, isn't it? I have yet to find a new (new to us, not a brand new house) rent house for near what I am paying now; mainly due to the fact that most of the houses I have found are huge. I have no use for a roommate, I have a two year old and a dog - that's it. That's all I can handle. Even though I know without a doubt, that I would be absolutely miserable, and swore I would never, ever, EVER do it again...

truth #3...I might have to move us into an apartment

I have wonderful neighbors here; well, most of them*. I have a wonderful support system here, with neighbors that instantly became our friends, and over the years have become our family. These wonderful people have taken such wonderful care of us since Michael died, and all of them have become such an integral part of our daily lives. I know if we left, they would all still be a part of our lives, but it's just not the same as walking 2 or 3 doors down.

truth #4...we might have to really be on own soon...

*truth #5...some people just aren't happy unless they make everyone around them miserable.

And here is the kicker...

This is where Michael and I spent the majority of our time together.

The only reason I want more than anything to stay in this house is so Isabelle can grow up where her dad lived. Where her mom and her dad, were happy together. Where we dreamed of our new life with her.

So she can walk through the same door he walked through everyday.

So she can feel some kind of connection to him.

So we can feel a connection to him...

truth #6...I might have to let go of him...again

Wednesday, July 6, 2011


Today is my dear husband's 35th birthday.

We should get up and I should cook him breakfast. He loves it when I cook him bacon, eggs and potatoes.

He should watch cartoons with Isabelle. Probably Naruto.

We should all go down to the rail station and catch a train to the zoo, because that's his favorite thing to do on his birthday.

He should show Isabelle all the animals, and help her find the tigers, because they never want to come out where you can see them.

We should argue over who's family we are visiting at the primate habitat.

We should get back on the train, completely exhausted from our fun day, and enjoy the ride home.

We should have everyone over and cook out on the grill, have some beers and some laughs.

I should make him a birthday cake; chocolate cake with chocolate peanut butter frosting is his favorite.

He should look at me with that embarrassed smirk from across the room, as we all sing "Happy Birthday".

After everyone has gone, I should be in the kitchen cleaning up.

He should come up behind me and rub my back, and kiss my cheek and say, "Thank you, baby"

I should turn to him, exhausted but happy, because he had a day where he felt special and appreciated, and say, "You're welcome, babe."

"I love you, Bear."

"I love you too, Monkey, Happy Birthday."

Sunday, May 29, 2011


How often do you pay attention to your breath? No, not your dragon breath; but the act of breathing. I think, of all things that we take for granted on a daily basis, that has to be the greatest.

Since losing my husband, I have had to re-learn so many things. Not that I have forgotten how to do them, but because I didn't know how to do them alone. Not literally alone of course; I have been fortunate enough to be surround by wonderful friends and family who, sometimes on a daily basis, lift me up (aka "Life Support").

My re-learning has started with the most basic life function, breathing. I am so thankful that yoga had a place in my life prior to this, because then I knew where to run to for help. There are so many forms of yoga, and different yoga practices have helped me through different parts of my life. The one that I need so desparately right now is pranayama, which translates to "extension of the breathe (or life force)".

Anyone can do this, anywhere. No mat or folded legs required - just lungs.

Do this for me, right now.

Pay attention to your breath; notice how swallow your breath is?

Now I want you to do what is sometimes called a "3 part breath". If you can lay down and do this, please do, but it is not required.

Place one hand on your belly (we are not here to judge), and one hand on your chest. Now I want you to inhale. First let the air fill your belly, slowly let the air rise to fill your chest and inhale until you can feel air in every alveoli in your body and it feels like your shoulders may have air in them too.

Now...exhale; but not all at once. I want you to send that air out slowly, just the way it came in. From your shoulders, through your chest and out through your belly, until everylast molecule of air has escaped.

Repeat, at least 3-5 times.

I do realize that this description is physiologically incorrect, but work with me here.

How do you feel? Does the load you carry around everyday feel just a bit lighter?


Yoga can be just that simple.

Take time to breathe today, and everyday.


Wednesday, May 25, 2011


It is still the beginning of summer and I am happy to report that I am making headway on my "Summer To-Do" list. I just realized my "Honey-Do" is now a "To-Do times 2".

Both items are a huge undertaking, but I have 3 months, right???

Phase one of item 1, has been to clean out the utility-pantry-garage room. This has also become somewhat of a dumping ground for things that get taken away from Isabelle. It's very (too) easy to open the door and throw something in there in order to keep it out of curious hands.

So I started this project today; and I really hate that in order to clean up one area, the entire rest of your house suffers. I started making piles, gardening, home improvement,

Ahhhh....THIS is the REAL reason this room looks the way it does. The majority of these tools are Michael's, or are my tools that I used when we worked together.

I stopped, just stood there, thinking...I have only used this room at it's most basic functional level. I go in there to do laundry and I pass through to go to the office. It now appears that I have emotionally dealt with every other room in the house, except this one. Well, this makes sense. This is the one room in my house that looks like a bomb went off, and I would just as well let it. Such a small subconscience act, with such huge meaning.

Later on, I confessed this revelation to a neighbor friend who had stopped by, that's just how we are here. He shared with me that he had a hard time doing the exact same thing when his father was taken from him too soon. He still has a tool box full of his dad's tools, many of which were brand new. I pointed to the black tool box in the corner, "just like that one?". At that very instant, I felt just a little closer to happy, to healing, to just normal I guess.

I was showing him all the stuff that I was getting rid of over the summer. Then he started to tell me how material objects (in general, not all) had no meaning anymore. "Things" became "Things".

I could not believe that what I was hearing, was coming from another person. I have a ridiculous amount of crap that I have hauled from apartment to apartment for the last 10 years, and for what? It was not long after Michael died that I began this "decluttering" phase. All the crap that I hauled for all these years, all the crap that Michael begged me to get rid of, means nothing. Now, I can't get it out of the house fast enough.

We talked some more, and I found myself so relieved to know that he too, felt nothing more than strong disappointment at the death or misfortune of others since his father's death.

I have emotionally beat myself up over the last year and a half, trying to feel something for another human being (aside from my daughter), and I just can't. I have felt so guilty for that, and all of the sudden I don't HAVE to feel that anymore!

I guess more than the house is going to get decluttered this summer. So, it appears that you really do have to make a bigger mess in order to deal with another.


Monday, May 23, 2011


I have been inspired to try blogging again. Maybe the wonderful and brilliant blogs of my friends will allow me to be wonderful and brillant too? We will see!

Looking back on my old posts, it's hard to believe that that was once my wonderful life. It is amazing how much can change in such a relatively short amount of time.

Here's to starting again