Wednesday, January 28, 2026

Then and now...

It is just after 5am as I type this
and in just under twelve hours,
at 4:59 pm, 
I will close my thirteenth year of widowhood
and open my fourteenth. 
 
This past fall, my Facebook page,
as it often does,
showed me a "then" photo
and invited me to add a "now" comparison.
So I did, just because,
with no intention of posting it. 
And I didn't post it.
But it made me pause
and I knew it would become a blog,
I just didn't know when. 
 
The "then" photo was one of the last out-of-bed photos
my Al and I took together.
I remember the night we took it.
We were on the rooftop at 
Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Phoenix, AZ.
It was a warm evening, light breeze.
We had spent the day doing "treatments".
It was an unusual evening in that 
he was not too exhausted and sick
to enjoy an evening adventure. 
 
We looked at the stars, the lights of the city;
we talked about...so many things!
We talked about our lives together,
past, present, and future.
We talked about treatment and how it was going.
We talked.
It was one of the last times we were able to have a "date".
It is a cherished memory.
 
The "now" photo was taken on a 2025 fall symphony date.
My Lanny Love and I had dinner out,
ran into one of our daughters, granddaughter, and a friend.
It was an evening of lovely music and wonderful company.
 
It made me think about my "then" and "now" life.
So much has changed!!!
Very little remains the same!
My "circle" is different, 
    I look different,
        I feel different,
            my personality has changed, 
                I live differently, 
                    I am married to a different man............ 
It confirmed my 
    before Al's death/after Al's death
        life division.
The blending of two lives,
both of them mine. 
 
Widowhood and grief have taken on a "sameness" now.
That is good.
Normal is no longer "new" which means it is actually normal again.
That is good.
I still experience periods of deep sadness and sorrow.
That is because I still love.
I mostly experience deep joy and absolute contentment.
That is very good!
It's the way of spousal grief,
or at least it has been for me.
 
I miss him, my Al.
I miss his sense of humor.
I miss his brilliance.
I miss his preaching. 
I miss his beautiful singing voice and singing with him.
I miss how well he knew me after 37 years of marriage
and 42 of "couplehood".
I miss...so much. 
I miss him.
I always will miss him.
 
I have given myself permission this week, to grieve what was.
I will share lunch with him today,
very likely something I totally should not eat
because he loved junk food.
 
I have also given myself permission to enjoy what is.
It seems strange to me that all this time later
I still have to do that from time-to-time.
 
As I sit in the dimness of this thirteenth anniversary morning,
the fire is warming the living room where I am cozied up in my chair.
Candles are glowing softly.
My Lanny Love is sleeping soundly,
one of the cats curled up next to him in the warm spot I left behind.
The dog has come out to be sure I'm not going to cook and has gone back to bed.
The other cat is curled comfortably on the hassock in front of the fire, 
purring contentedly. 
And the shadow of the last year seems to have lifted from my soul.
 
I look at this "then and now" photo
and I see sadness and joy.
I see great love.
I see great blessing.
I see a blending of two lives,
both of them mine,
and I am grateful! 
 
Happy heaven anniversary, honey! 
 

Friday, January 23, 2026

In the quiet

In the quiet of the morning
God sits with me,
just as I am,
in all my brokenness. 
 
He doesn't turn His face
from my grief
but sits in it with me
as I remember.
 
He doesn't laugh
as I wonder 
"panic attack or heart attack?" 
and look up the symptoms of each 
for the third time this week.
 
In the quiet of the morning,
God sits with me,
just as I am,
in all my brokenness. 
 
Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High 
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
~~ Psalm 91:1 ~~  

Thursday, January 15, 2026

Honestly, it's such a weird year!

It really is!
 
It's "my month".
And the grief is heavier this year.
And lighter.
 
Or maybe I'm handling the "heavy" differently.
Or maybe it's heavier for a different reason 
I don't know,
but it's weird.
 
All of 2025 I grieved more,
was more aware of my Al's absence,
cried more than I had in a while.
I was NOT looking forward to January!
And here it is, dreaded January...
no tears, just heavy awareness.
 
Night before last was the night I have felt guilt over
for 13 Januaries starting with the offending one
where I broke my promise to keep him home to die.
And this year, the night passed and I didn't remember
until yesterday.
In the space of less than a second,
I felt relief at the sign of a heart continuing its healing journey
and crushing guilt that I had forgotten an important day in his walk Home.
    I hadn't gone to his gravesite.
        I hadn't rehearsed - again - in my mind,
        the reasons in-patient hospice was the right choice. 
            I hadn't wept at my "felt" betrayal.
PLEASE!!!
In a grief journey,
please,
never forget,
feelings are not facts!!!
Or in any journey for that matter. 
 
It made me wonder about the heaviness of the last year.
How many other things about the "walking Al home"
did my heart remember but my mind did not.
I know for certain of at least two times
because a day or two later I would think
"Ahh, that's why I was so sad that day!"
 
This is something in my grief journey I did not anticipate at this point.
False-guilt over healing.
I experienced a lot of that in the first few years.
    "HOW cqn you smile!?!?!?" 
        "HOW can you wish it would just stop hurting for a minute!?!?!?!
        The pain is what connects you to him!!!" 
            "HOW can you WANT to move forward, live live 
            when he isn't here to live it with you!?!?!?!"
                "HOW in the world can you even THINK about remarriage!?!?!?"
                    "YOU KISSED ANOTHER MAN!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!" 
But the last several years have been false-guilt free.
Except for in-patient hospice day.
And that always initiated a sense of false-guilt and betrayal.
Yes, I always call it false-guilt
because that's what it is.
 
I follow a fellow griever on FB, Gary Sturgis,
Who is me from a male perspective
(except more faithful to posting).
He has just commemorated the 12th anniversary
of his beloved wife's death.
I made the following comment on his recent post,
"Reflections of a Griever".
 
I will hit the 13th anniversary in 15 days. 
I am joyfully, happily remarried to a widower 
who commemorated his 12th anniversary in September. 
You are right. Grief softens. It changes. 
It morphs into - dare I say it? - a friend. 
We talk often about our co-beloveds - 
I use that term because we don't love each other instead of them, 
we love each other in addition to them. 
It is a rare day one or both of their names are not mentioned. 
There are no days they are not thought about. 
Grief and happiness CAN co-exist! Work THROUGH your grief. 
And don't plan to retire from it. 
But accept the promotions it offers as time goes on. 
 
Those last two lines,
 
And don't plan to retire from it. 
But accept the promotions it offers as time goes on. 
 
That right there is my "take away" for this post!
And I think I will be accepting this "forgetting" promotion moving forward.  




 
 
 

Saturday, January 3, 2026

2025 is a wrap

2025 has been a hard year.
A quiet year writing-wise. 
This 13th year,
a mere 25 days from completion,
has had more than its share
of painful moments.
It has been a consistently darker year. 
I find myself somewhat surprised.
 
I mean, come on, the 13th anniversary is just around the corner!
Shouldn't I be in "status quo" by now?
You know, those moments of grief,
but overall, ticking along nicely
without a lot of heartache or tears. 
But that's the thing.
In grief, there is no "status quo".
Not even in spousal loss!
 
Having been an intimate participant in widowhood,
one would think I would know that by now.
However, even I find myself caught up in the social assumption
that widowed grief is really bad at first
but that it is not lasting like that of child or parental loss.
Maybe because that would be so much more convenient.
 
Part of the issue, I feel certain,
is the scratching open of the wound.
Two cousins have been widowed within the last year
and as I have walked with them through the loss,
and one through the losing,
my own wounds can't help but open,
can't help but become sore, tender.
I "feel" with them.
It is part of what makes me an effective partner in their journeys.
It is also painfully vulnerable. 
 
Perhaps it was knowing that my Al
would have entered a new decade of life this year
had he still been having earthly birthdays.
But he is, 
as I have heard mamas say about their children,
"forever 57".
I hadn't thought about that until recently,
"forever" an age works with all death loss
with the "forever" being exponentially more significant
the younger the deceased.
As spouses go, "forever 57" is pretty darn young!
Or at least it feels that way to me!
 
Maybe it was some health issues
my Lanny Love is experiencing,
the reminder that one of us will do widowhood again,
and the fear that it would be sooner than either of us hope and pray. 
 
Maybe it's because one of our daughters
and her family
have had an exceptionally rough year emotionally.
 
Maybe it's because our granddaughter got her driver's license this year
and he should have been here to beam proudly
and tease her about not running into the house
as she pulled into our driveway for the first time on her own. 
 
Maybe.........a lot of things. 
 
I want a reason.
But in reality, there probably isn't one.
It simply has been a year of missing more...
    wondering more...
        actively grieving more... 
That, quite simply, is the way of widowhood.
The love doesn't die,
so the grief doesn't either. 
 
I anticipate that 2026 will have its moments.
This is the year we should be celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary.
 
Is it okay that I feel a twinge of jealousy
when others celebrate theirs?
 
I imagine this year's birthday will sting
just like all the others have.
I imagine there will be heartaches and celebrations
that he and I should share
just as in all the previous years.
 
But can I be honest?
I am looking forward to,
praying that,
the consistency of heartache and missing that has been 2025
will once again ebb,
once again become gently lapping waves
instead of the tsunami of emotions
that 2025 brought with it. 
 

 
 

Saturday, November 8, 2025

Milestone Birthdays

Today is my Al's birthday.
His 70th.
Monday was Lanny's Judy's.
Her 75th.
Milestone birthdays.
 
For me,
birthdays are the hardest of the remembrance days.
Harder than our wedding anniversary.
Harder than "hospice day"
    (which also was this week).
Harder than "D-day". 
Harder than the other holidays.
Harder even than the day he died anniversary.
I've pondered that over the years
and have decided that it is because
birthdays are the celebration of earthly life
and are, therefore, a stark reminder that that life is over.
That's what I've decided. 
 
Milestone birthdays are even harder.
 
I woke this morning and changed my Facebook cover photo
to one of Al on our last vacation.
I wanted to write something
but the words wouldn't come.
My mind was zooming around the memories so fast,
my heart feeling the feels that come with them,
and nothing came through my fingers.
The same thing happened on Monday for Judy's milestone.
Even though we never met, 
I feel as though I knew her and I grieve her. 
The same on Wednesday, hospice day.
But I feel compelled to try.
 
I admit,
I thought that by the 13th birthday since he died,
surely there would be no pain.
Sadness, sure.
Sense of ongoing loss, absolutely.
But surely...surely no pain.
I was wrong.
 
Maybe it's the milestone.
Maybe it's just one of those blindsides that come.
I don't know, but there is pain.
My heart hurts.
My tummy is queasy.
I feel exhausted.
 
I've heard the stories of Lanny's Judy's birthdays.
She liked to celebrate!
Hers and those of others!
Lanny says she would have wanted a party
for this milestone birthday! 
 
My Al loved being the center of attention,
feeling celebrated.
And he loved celebrating his people. 
We always made a big deal of birthdays in our home.
He'd have wanted a party for this milestone birthday! 
 
Maybe it's the lack of parties. 
I made a birthday cupcake with candles on Monday...
            but it wasn't enough.
Tonight, there will be chocolate cream pie...
            I suspect it won't be enough.
 
Enough would be watching them enjoy the cake and pie. 
 
Happy birthday, Judy.
Happy birthday, Alfie.
I miss you!!!

 
 
 

Tuesday, August 12, 2025

My mama

I'm not sure where I'm going with this post
so what you are reading is a likely heavily edited ramble. 
 
I am not mathy.
Oh, I get by, but please don't ask me to solve compound equations!
But I have a thing for dates
and the distances between significant dates.
It's not something I work at. 
I don't figure it out.
It just comes to me
and when I think "I think it's been..."
and check the math,
it's always accurate within a day or two.
So, I don't know how I know this,
but I checked the math
and today my mama has been gone
longer than she lived. 
Yesterday, it turns out,
she had been gone 
44 years, 4 months, and 14 days 
the same amount of time she lived.
 
I was 23 when she died
so she has been gone nearly half my life.
I suppose in a couple years,
that date will stand up and shout
"Look at me!"
just like this one did. 
 
I still miss her.
I still think about her.
I still talk about her.
I still love her. 
 
I've had several moms in my life whom I deeply love.
My dear mothers-in-law.
My mother's best friend/my "aunt".
Step-mothers, the first and the last I knew well and loved.
None of them erased my love for my mother.
 
Why can we not understand that the same principle applies
in widowed remarriage!?!
But I digress...
 
These women have all been important in forming the "me" of today,
but none more so than my mother.
My mom did a LOT of living in her short life.
A lot of it,
    dare I say, most of it,
        was harsh.
And yet, she persevered.
She overcame.
She accomplished.
She softened.
She grew.
 
The woman who died that day 44 years, 4 months, and 15 days ago,
was a very different woman than the one I grew up with
(a child-bride raising a child).
Don't get me wrong,
she was a good mom who loved all her children,
but like all of us, she had faults!
Like all of us moms (and dads), she made mistakes,
sometimes big, damaging ones
(I believe her extreme level of stress 
throughout most of her life
contributed to that),
but she did love us and was the very best mom she knew how to be. 
 
She had a wicked flash temper and a cruel tongue when she lost it.
This is something we had in common,
something both of us worked on our entire lives.
That temper and tongue gentled as she aged and 
gave herself over to Christ's ability to change her 
where she could not change herself.
We have that in common too.
 
She was fun-ny!!!!!
She was not good at practical jokes,
she was GREAT!!!
I did not get that ability!
 
She was SMART!!!
Literally a genius!
With the added benefit of having fairly good common sense,
something most geniuses lack.
 
She was wise.
I remember once, in my early marriage to my Al,
we had had a fight (see "I got my temper from my mom...")
and I had stomped off to mommy.
She listened to me rant.
She listened to me rave.
Then she asked me what part I had played in the argument.
I was quite taken aback.
What in the world???
But she made me tell the other side of the story
then told me to go home,
    apologize,
        and work it out.
Best advice she ever gave me!
 
Another time, when I was a teenager,
I got caught skipping school.
I didn't know I had been caught,
and I didn't know the school had called her.
She asked me how school was that day,
I told her fine. 
She let it play out and the next morning, 
I had my one and only visit with the principal of my entire school career.
That one day off cost me 30 days of cafeteria duty.
She never said a word,
but we both knew.....
I never skipped school again!
 
She taught by example.
Sometimes she taught how I SHOULD behave and act,
what I SHOULD say and do,
and sometimes she taught me how I should NOT behave and act,
what I should NOT say and do.
Both ways had consequences I learned
and so I began early in life trying to choose
which kind of consequence I wanted,
to weigh the possible outcome against my want to or instinct.
 
I made a lot of mistakes as a mom, as a wife,
some of them serious,
but my mama taught me that mistakes,
    while they cannot be undone,
        words cannot be unuttered, unheard,
mistakes are a part of our learning and improving experience,
both personally, 
    and for those we love.
I am a better mom, better wife, better woman today
because mom taught me in words and deed
that I could, 
    I should, 
        I MUST 
be on a constant path of self-improvement
and seeking God and His pleasure above my own!
 
My mom was extremely introverted,
another inheritance I received from her,
but she could stand up for herself and her children when necessary.
She taught me it was necessary most of the time
and not to let myself be squashed
and NEVER to let my children be squashed!
It took time and effort for her, and for me,
to learn the difference between doormat, shrew, and strength,
but we learned/are learning!!!  
 
My mom's life was HARD!!!
I mean it was HARD!!!
From the get-go, it was hard!
But she overcame and taught her children that they too
could overcome...anything,
including our childhood!!!
  
My precious mama considered herself a failure.
She only saw her imperfections.
Despite overcoming a childhood that had significant challanges;
    despite surviving an abusive marriage;
        despite getting four children to adulthood;
            despite working full-time while going to school full-time to become a nurse
            while raising four children and attempting to survive her marriage; 
                despite battling cancer, 
                including nearly nine years of chemotherapy, surgeries, and radiation 
                all while working full-time, raising four children, and in an impossible marriage, 
despite all that, she considered herself a failure.
She was not!!! 
In spite of the failures,
the successes, the love,
far outweighed any of the perceived or real failures! 
 
My mama's most ringing success though
was not in her survival or her gentling or her parenting successes,
it was in this one thing:
My mom loved Jesus and strove hard to be like Him!!!
When we couldn't see the striving or the progress,
she still strove.
She made sure we were in church every Sunday,
even when work and illness prevented her attendance,
she got us there!
She modeled to us what our church did not -
despite our imperfections,
    despite our failures, both shallow and deep,
 
God sees our hearts and the intentions within them!
 
She showed us God's mercy and grace as He bestowed it on her! 
I walk with Jesus today because,
despite it all,
my mama walked with Jesus back then!
Even in the dark and dirty times,
she ran after Him with all she had!
And He never failed to welcome her into His loving, forgiving arms! 
 
I miss my mama today!
Forty-four years later, the days that I don't think of her
and wish I could give her a call or run by her house are rare. 
Despite her imperfections,
she was a good and loving mama.
I look to the day when we will meet again,
whole, healed of all our imperfections, and in the presence of Jesus
who saved us both!!! 
 
My mom would not consider herself a Proverbs 31 woman.
And on the surface, one would agree,
but, upon deeper inspection, she surely was!!!
 

A Wife of Noble Character

10 Who can find a virtuous and capable wife?
    She is more precious than rubies.
11 Her husband can trust her,
    and she will greatly enrich his life.
12 She brings him good, not harm,
    all the days of her life.

13 She finds wool and flax
    and busily spins it.
14 She is like a merchant’s ship,
    bringing her food from afar.
15 She gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for her household
    and plan the day’s work for her servant girls.

16 She goes to inspect a field and buys it;
    with her earnings she plants a vineyard.
17 She is energetic and strong,
    a hard worker.
18 She makes sure her dealings are profitable;
    her lamp burns late into the night.

19 Her hands are busy spinning thread,
    her fingers twisting fiber.
20 She extends a helping hand to the poor
    and opens her arms to the needy.
21 She has no fear of winter for her household,
    for everyone has warm[c] clothes.

22 She makes her own bedspreads.
    She dresses in fine linen and purple gowns.
23 Her husband is well known at the city gates,
    where he sits with the other civic leaders.
24 She makes belted linen garments
    and sashes to sell to the merchants.

25 She is clothed with strength and dignity,
    and she laughs without fear of the future.
26 When she speaks, her words are wise,
    and she gives instructions with kindness.
27 She carefully watches everything in her household
    and suffers nothing from laziness.

28 Her children stand and bless her.
    Her husband praises her:
29 “There are many virtuous and capable women in the world,
    but you surpass them all!”

30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last;
    but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised.
31 Reward her for all she has done.
    Let her deeds publicly declare her praise.

~~ Proverbs 31:10-31 NLT ~~ 

 
 
 
 

Monday, May 26, 2025

The merry month of May...

Grief is a curious thing.
There seems no particular rhyme or reason
to its appearance at any given moment.
What makes it manifest itself and wreak havoc
on your emotions?
It is completely unpredictable.
 
It may predictably show up on special dates.
    Or it may not.
It may predictably show up for special events.
    Or it may not.
It more likely jumps at you from behind a completely ordinary moment.
 
And how it manifests itself is just as big a mystery.
Maybe it will make you cry.
    Or maybe not.
Maybe it will make you want to eat everything in sight.
    Or it might make you unable to swallow a bite.
 Maybe it will make you sleep a lot.
    Or maybe you will not be able to sleep at all.
You could have dreams.
    Or nightmares.
And it could manifest itself in completely unpredictable ways.
 
For example, earlier this week,
our daughter had a "blindside" grief moment
when her daughter, who really doesn't remember her papa,
flew a plane for the first time.
Her daddy should have been there
and our daughter caught herself 
looking around to see where he was.
The intensity of her grief was overwhelming.
 
For me, the month of May is filled with reminders of losses:
    my first mother-in-love died on May first - just over three months after my Al;
        my grandmother passed away on May 14th;
            my first father-in-love on May 16th;
                my son was still-born on May 17th.
And May 25th, the day my beloved was diagnosed with cancer,
    the 26th the day we knew it was terminal in the short term.
There are others, but these are the major days
where the sense of loss builds in intensity culminating in today.
 
And, for me, May means fear.
I am fearful my children will die.
    One of them is traveling out of the country right now...oy vay!
I am fearful my grandchildren will fall ill.
I am fearful my siblings will be diagnosed with a dread disease.
And, since my remarriage,
    I spend a lot of time listening to my husband's heart beat.
I become clingy and possessive, 
    not wanting him out of my sight for even a moment.
It's not much fun.
 
I spend a lot of time in prayer and in God's Word
    during the month of May,
        more than usual.
I beg and plead;
    I promise and bargain;
         and I do a lot of releasing and "not my will but Thine"-ing.
This year has been worse with my Lanny Love.
For no good reason,
    other than grief is, quite simply,
        its own creature with its own ways. 

Strangely, while I still feel the weight of that hard "D-day" in May
    thirteen years later,
        I did not feel sorrow this year.
I miss him, my Al!
I spent a while at the cemetery yesterday 
    where his only earthly presence 
        now lies in anticipation of the coming resurrection.
 But I did not feel sorrow as I sat with him,
    only gratitude for the days we had.
Still, it was a day when my emotions were close to the surface
    and I cried easily.
 
This year, my sorrow was for what has not yet happened.
This year, my sorrow was for the loss of people not yet gone.
I laid in bed next to my beloved Lanny last night
    and wept after he had fallen asleep,
        prayed for his continued good health, sharp mind, and Godly spirit,
and for my own trust in the God who controls all things.
 
This morning I was reading a passage of Scripture in I Samuel
    and was reminded again that, ultimately,
        God is in control! 
Nothing comes to us that has not first passed by Him!
And as I read 1 Thessalonians 4,
    as I often do on these days,
        I was reminded again that 
"...we do not grieve like people who have no hope..."
But we do grieve.
There is a hole left in our earthly lives when someone dies,
    that can never be filled this side of eternity.
That spot is simply empty for the rest of our days.
And it hurts,
    sometimes a whole-big-whopping-lot.
That same chapter in 1 Thessalonians also says
"God Himself has taught you to love one another."
Love is of God, commanded by Him,
    and it survives the grave! (Song of Songs 8)
And where love is present
    and the person is absent,
        there is a hole
            that fills with grief in that person's absence.
 
But it should NOT fill with fear!!!
That is my struggle this year in the merry month of May.
I'll be glad when May is done..........