Blog My Mind

If someone would have told me 20 years ago that I'd be flying to Tucson to meet up with my sister and attend my stepdaughter's wedding after my husband's death, I'd have asked what they were smoking. But that's exactly what I did. Honestly, I had been dreading the trip, because I knew just how hard it would be without John. But I couldn't have missed it. I asked my sister to fly in, both for moral support, and for a mini vacation for the two of us. I wouldn't have made it through the weekend without her.  Thursday's travel was a complete cluster fuck from the start. But, since John died three months ago, almost nothing has been easy or gone off without some sort of colossal hitch. So, as I walked through the airport cussing under my breath, I figured it was just par for my current course. After hours of delays, I finally arrived in Tucson at midnight, a mere eight hours late. As I got dressed for the Saturday evening wedding and did the last-minute wrapp

  Months before my husband died, I watched a TEDx talk about moving forward from a loss, because there is no moving on. It made sense at the time, but now I understand it more deeply than ever.   Every day I get moments, reminders, that there is no moving on, but I do my best to move forward, one foot in front of the other, one moment at a time, one day at a time.   I hit a big milestone this week when John’s life insurance was finally paid. It took more phone calls than I can count, pissy emails to the agent who sold us the policy, threats of legal action, before they finally fulfilled their obligation to me and his kids, three months after his death. Having that behind me is the first step in allowing me to move forward. It was incredibly important to John that I was taken care of after he was gone. Maybe we can both rest easier now.   Today I got an email from an organization that was huge in John’s cancer journey, acknowledging a large donation from his daughter, Liz. My tear