Things will get better, I know that’s true
Because I’ve walked the same road as you.

One thing I have learned these past few years is how varied grief is. My experience is similar to many yet I find others who are far more stoic, maybe braver, and not nearly as emotional as I have been.

I have kept a number of emails sent me after Harry died … one from a dear friend who assured me that although time would help, I would probably never get over my grief as my grief was a tribute to a man who loved me for many years.

And perhaps it is true, that the more you love someone the more you grieve.

I met someone the other day
And saw in her my past

“Can I do this?” I ask myself. Then making the decision even tougher, I chose the most miserable winter day I could find. It was -20 C and the snowfall at the sides of the roads was in windrows nearly four feet tall. But, I did it!

I hadn’t played the family movie for a few years so took courage one day and played it. We looked so young and as I watched I could see our baby girls grow into young adults in front of my eyes.

It is very hard in some ways to write about grief … mainly because it is about “you, you, you.”

The last time I got a pet and it died, I vowed I would never involve myself again in that kind of grief. The years have slipped by and I still pat dogs and cuddle kittens, but they are not mine … no way, the last lost puppy nearly did me in.

My best friend has just been put in long-term care. I remember how her and Harry cried the last time they saw each other at the hospital. I guess they knew the writing was on the wall.

It still seems strange to be alone,
When I was with you all those years.

My friend R. who was a neighbor for years, visits frequently. She is high on my list of earthly angels and helps me with my computer, (with which I have a love-hate relationship).

“It’s a bad day,” I’d hear you say.
“Oh, no it’s not my dear.
It is a really good day, because you are still here.”

I didn’t realize until after my husband died how many layers I had put on my personality during his illness. They were there to protect me and in honesty, to continue a façade that would protect my daughters.

have a widowed friend who was there to share my heartache and tears as my husband’s cancer progressed. She had gone through the same process two years before.

What will you have me do, Lord
Now that I’m all alone?

As a child of the 30s I tend to be somewhat prudent … well, maybe more than “somewhat” prudent.

My husband was not the “strong, silent” type. He was the “loud, laughing” type and he captivated all he met, including me.

A year is gone and still I weep. His memory fills my days … my sleep. Yet aching pain has eased somewhat And so God […]

The autumn leaves, blazing golden just two weeks ago are being torn apart by the west wind. Exactly the same thing happened in September on the day my husband died.

Daughter Lyn emails, knowing I will be a bit blue … it is a year since Harry’s death.