#Dwight Was Here

One of the hot topics for widows is when to stop wearing your wedding ring(s). They say you’ll know when the time is right. It’s not even a question in my mind right now. I don’t care what my legal status is, I still feel married, so I will continue to wear my rings. The only rings I wear on my left hand were gifted to me by Dwight. My wedding band was actually placed on my finger in 1995, but we didn’t get married until 1997. We had a commitment ceremony in 1995; I knew Dwight was “the one”,…

💔 9 months I’ve run out of words. 😔

Wearing black for a designated period of time has gone by the wayside. In the past, widows were expected to wear back for at least a year, a period also referred to as "high mourning". For some faiths, the next six months were considered "half mourning"; during this time a bit of white could be added in to the wardrobe. After that, sometimes there was a period of "light mourning", where muted shades of gray/lavender/mauve were acceptable. Call me old fashioned, but I kind of wish this tradition was still in place. An article I read recently, points out exactly…

One of the often-uttered phrases during all of this is that I am adjusting to my new normal. There is nothing normal about this. The old normal was perfectly fine. I want it back. Now. Sure, death is an accepted part of life and those left behind need to deal with it. It is what it is. We attend a funeral, express our condolences, cry a bit, have wistful & fond memories, but for the most part, we go on after a small interruption of day-to-day life. Maybe we take a couple of days off, but eventually we go back…

Generally, the world comes in packages of two without attracting much attention. Unless it's a bicycle built for two or a two dollar bill, there's not too much hoopla made over double quantities. However... The world truly seems to be geared towards couples. I never noticed it before, but lately there have been numerous examples that have brought this to my attention. A few weeks ago, I had my eyes checked and got new glasses. Of course, the office was having a" buy one, get one 50% off sale" on frames. We used to go together so we could take…

A common sentiment throughout this whole experience is how strong I have been. I don't feel strong, I feel quite weak, so when others say I'm strong, I wonder what in the world they're basing that on. After the funeral, my brother told me how proud he was of how strong I was during everything. One of my sons mentioned that I was going an impressive 100 miles an hour. When I returned to work, I was told I was strong, I'd get through it and be okay. I'm here to tell you, strength is finite. I may look strong,…

Each day, when I wake up, there's a temporary fog before my head clears. And then I open my eyes. The room is bright, the linens are white, there's much less furniture than there should be. And then I remember. I turn my head to look beside me, knowing what I won't see. I close my eyes, hating this life, wondering how I'll get through this day, and wishing I was still asleep, where grief does not live.

In the beginning, I had a very tough time sleeping. I didn't sleep at night, I didn't sleep in a bed, sometimes I didn't sleep at all. I was incredibly afraid of having nightmares; the scene from the night he died replayed in my head every time I closed my eyes. It was hard enough going through it the first time, I didn't want an endless replay every single night. For the first few weeks, I slept in a recliner in the living room. It wasn't comfortable at all, but I couldn't bring myself to sleep in our bed... the…