Well, 24 more hours, plus 2.

Sitting here this Sunday morning, looking at the calendar. Knowing without looking, without counting - 2 more wake ups and it will be 9 years as a widow. The beginning of that 1st decade closing. 

I sit here this morning, looking at the date of the last blog post.

Well. Daylight is just about over.

People are different.

A guy that I went to high school with contacted me the other day.

I sit here on this cooler November 9th morning with a hundred tabs open in my heart, mind and memories. 

As I sit here this 2nd day of October 2023, there are at least a hundred thoughts swirling in my mind and in my heart.

There is an old story, perhaps you have heard it, or some version of it.It goes like this:

Going thru stuff with the mind set of letting go is not easy.

There are 3 kinds of people in my life

And what a month it has been so far! 

Sitting here a few minutes before going to an appointment later. 

I have always been a planner. An organizer. A list-maker. 

Sitting here with just a few more minutes before time to leave for work. 

I have been questioned, and criticized, often for all the times and ways I say "I love you" - or the reminders that "You are so very LOVED".

Widowed Warrior Class of 2015So many thoughts when I read these words.

After 8 years, few ask how I am doing as a widow. The consensus seems to be that it's been long enough, that I should let it all go and move on. That I should be over it by now.

Focus, Focus, Focus

I was raised to be afraid. Yet to be strong enough to keep on going regardless of the fear. 

I love words.Writing them.Reading them.Researching the meaning of them.

I think one of the most "surprising" (not in a good way) things about being a widow is that while it's perfectly acceptable and the "norm" for people to grieve and miss their parents, their siblings, children, friends, or other family members, who have died - we as widows/widowers are expected, sometimes even met with demands, to "get over it", "move on", "quit your crying".

Well, here it is.The last day of July 2023. The last hot day of July, 2023. And sadly, I do not feel much better than I did the last day of June 2023. Sigh. Almost like I am stuck in some kind of mud - not going deeper, but not getting closer to being out, either. Just here. Spinning my wheels. But not even having fun doing that! Just here. Breathing in.Breathing out. Surviving yes. But still, not really LIVING. Maybe there are some changes in me thru these days of July, and before.Not much “about” me or in my life, or so it seems. 

Grief has made me a liar.

Well, I've written a few times about different thoughts that swirl around in my heart and mind.

Coffee thoughts on a growingly hot Monday morning :

Sunday afternoon, 4 pm.

I just wrote the title to this blog - "Sometimes I am not sure"

These are my coffee thoughts this Wednesday morning: 

It's been too long since I wrote here. I have found myself struggling greatly with what to write. Not wanting to sound like I am whining, or complaining. Not sure how to put words to all my thoughts and emotions. So, just kinda holding all those close in my heart for now. As I process it all, I will be sharing some of them in later blogs. 

Father’s Day.

This song was released in February 1990.

Coffee Thoughts on a Saturday morning - 

Loneliness cannot be compared any more than comparing apples to oranges- they are both round, they are both fruits, they both contain Vitamin C, they can both be eaten, they can both be made into juice and drank. They can even weigh about the same. - one is not better than the other. Except to a personal preference and taste. - both are good for you, but if you live only on either, it will make you sick.

I am in many groups online, some thru Facebook, some are not. And I read a lot of complaints about “rules of the house” - and whether someone agrees with those rules or not. There have been some very adamant stands - on both sides of the fence. I haven’t gotten involved in any of the discussions - just holding my words.

We all need a moon in our lives. 

There are people in our lives who are “toxic” for one reason or another. No judgment or criticism from me on those that you choose to cut out of your life, for whatever reason there is - that’s your heart, mind and soul’s decision.

Many years ago I remember going with Rick to Granny McCoy's house. When I stepped out of the car, I could hear her groaning and moaning. Walking into her little house, I could see her sitting in her chair, with her legs up on her ever present blue bucket that had a pillow on top. 

For these 8 years since my loss, I have thought something isn’t right with me. My thoughts of this intense grief is that it had settled on me, like some pea-soup fog. Leaving me to wonder if this is depression. Even being told by one doctor that it was indeed, depression. Then, the calm voice of reason from another doctor, “Margaret, you are not depressed. You are a WIDOW.”

I don’t think you have to be a widow to have thoughts and emotions of epic proportions

If you knew Rick, or even just talked to him for longer than 5 minutes, you knew (or would realize) just what a different creature he was. 

I love pearls. 

Coffee thoughts: Not enough coffee? Too much?

I wish you knew....

I need the quiet.

11 years ago when I had cancer surgery - a radical hysterectomy for aggressive uterine cancer, my oncologist told me that one of the lingering effects to the surgery would be in my legs, ankles and feet. Explained that a normal person's blood goes from their heart to big toe and back to heart in 2 seconds or less - but since he had to remove the part of me that does that, mine would now take 20-45 seconds.

People don’t know. Unless someone had a likeness to the life we lived, to the love we shared - they don’t know what it is like to live this now, without all that.