Showing posts from 2013

December 20

One year and five months. Today. December 20th. That's all its been.
So I'm giving myself a break from my own judgement about how I am doing. I am against feeling or acting like a victim, though I have to admit with embarrassment, that sometimes I feel I deserve niceness just because I am a widow. I cringe as I type that!
I work so hard in a way that I never knew existed. The strong performance I put up to some people. My quiet and sad honesty with others. On occasion, the comfort I reach out for and beautifully find.
My times when I want to do more than hide and the times when I want to race and succeed
with this living business. Sometimes, (all the time actually) I am in public places with a constant voice in my head saying Oh my God Oh my God, I'm going to cry. I truly am taking it moment by moment. You just have to. Anything feels like a mild success because I get through the day.
I wanted to post today, to say how much I miss loving David and how aware I am that the l…

Theater and Toast

Today, December 16th, was a tough day. Twenty years ago my Dad passed away from cancer. Twenty years!!
The anniversary always touches my heart, and today it was the number twenty that seemed to hold me in a muddied and gritty blur.
So much has happened and yet so very little. Tremendous changes and yet nothing.
It is incredibly selfish/boring/pointless/self indulgent of me to say how much I looked at my life today and noticed how many things I have left behind and some of which I miss. How I now compare my own widowhood to my Mums. How much I feel I have let my family down, when I think of all the things I wanted to give to them. The ache of his loss hit hard today.

Then tonight I realized the two things that still remain that my Dad gave to me - The Theater and Toast.
My brother and I grew up going to the theater with Mum and Dad. They were called shows then, just the same as dinner happened at lunchtime and policemen were really older.  I would give anything to have those trips back…

PHD for the young

I got out of bed to write this, so good luck everyone!

Recently I have been spending time with younger people, who at some point in the conversation will put themselves down. Now, everyone who knows me is aware that I invented the self put down. I have a PHD in it - Personal Hello Downers. The stuff that builds layers of protection around you, (or so you think) that eats you from the inside in order for others to stop attacking the outside. Spoiler alert - it does not work!

Anyway - the point of this blog is to remark how much my experience of loss, is changing my attitude. When I feel strong and determined, I am aware of soul and not physicality. It is when I see a photograph and I reach out, that the physical loss hits me, because the feeling of love still continues. Like a perfume, it lingers. That warm, fond memory that will always make you smile. My experience of loving is still there. In fact I said to a dear friend recently that I miss saying the words "I love you" ou…

It's been awhile

Forgive me Blog Universe - it has been one month and six days since my last post!
I have not committed any writing since then, and for that I am truly sorry. I firmly resolve, that with the help of inspiration, cake and a dictionary that I will write more, and avoid the near occasions of losing my blog access. (I now make the sign of typing at a laptop.) Peace be with you and also with any publishers and or agents. Ah to lots of men. 

Where have I been?
A mixture of hiding, perhaps re-fueling, perhaps resting.
I was under a rock for a while, and then found it started to lift, which gave me the strength to push it away.
I don't want to stay hiding from life or running away from the possibilities of being all that I can.
It's just so odd to be doing it to a whole new audience.
Max The Cat lays by my side, he sometimes looks interested in what I'm saying.
Anyway - I just wanted to blog this evening to say out loud, that I am doing OK. I talk to David. A lot.
I catch my breat…

Jen, Ugly Dog Books and A Card

I have a special friend called Jen Smith. She is not imaginary, she does exist.
Our friendship, perhaps eight years long now, has been quite the adventure of books, cake, words, work and life. Jen was the one person that David trusted inside our house toward the end of his illness. They prepared chocolate covered strawberries and fruit salad together. Jen pretended that the care giver we tried to introduce was her new boyfriend!!! David called Jen his laughter lady.

We finally got together today for a long over due coffee and visit to a book store. Jen had found The Ugly Dog Books in Attleboro on line.

It is delightful. A great joy of a place, much like opening a brand new book, where you walk in with eyes widening at new treasures alongside old favorites. The owner, Kim, there in person, has a passion for books, obviously, and includes a writers room and open events for book lovers and writers alike. She has a room dedicated to her father, there…

Off Course and Television

You know when you are off course (and addicted to television) when......................

1) you watch the pilot of Breaking Bad to cheer yourself up
2) you watch the pilot of Breaking Bad, when everyone else is mourning the final episode
3) you consider priniting a tshirt that says - Breaking Bad Virgin - Dont Tell Me!
4) watching Breaking Bad, it completely makes sense as a possiblity to your next step in life
5) after watching breaking Bad, you need to cook something and boil up a ton of pasta
6) you are over excited to see re runs of shows on Saturday night (yes people actually watch television on a Saturday night)
7) your whole Sunday is wrapped around the start of The Amazing Race
8) you fall asleep during The Amazing Race
9) you notice television is becoming your life raft
10) you look at a job posting and think BS as a requirement means bullshit required and you actually wonder if that's what it really means and that the company has a great sense of humor

Harry Taylor

Eighteen years ago today, September 5th, I received a phone call from my dear friend David Taylor who simply said "It's a boy!" and so was born my Godson, who today celebrates his eighteenth birthday.
His Mum Lorna and I have been friends for well over twenty-five years, having met on the hallowed grounds of the Warner Brothers studios when we were young London starlets!!!
That's another story - This however is about HARRY.

Happy Birthday Harry.
You know that I have always said that I am not around enough, even more so since I emigrated.
I doubt that you know how much I admire you and think of you. Remembering back to times you would not remember and perhaps those that you do. Various adventures, dinners at your house, board games, walks, our amazing trip in America and last year laughing at Comic Relief in London at all the parts we should not have been laughing at!!

Anyway - here is the important part. I have not meant much to many people, nor it seems to have a si…

Widow Talk - Touch of bitter with that axe?

Tonight I used my scrubbing steamer mop. Why the big deal?
Because my David loved using this machine and I have not been able to use it in well over a year, for knowing that his hands held that handle. He loved the noise, and the steam, and the way he could move it so easily. I loved watching him use it.

See, that's the thing, each thing can be a big thing. Some of them you avoid, some hit you in the face with a hot nail load of emotions and some things you just notice you are doing again. Like, I swam in a pool when I got hot, like David did. I thought, wow, you are right - it is refreshing to cool off. Stupid little things, internal conversations that go on and on.

This post is not a complaint, I'm just pointing something out, and trying to make myself realize that this widow malarkey, still takes it's boring toll on me. I keep saying, come on Jayne, its over a year now. It can't still be difficult to drive down to Dartmouth can it? Yet here is my statement. I lost …

loved with boldness

She loved with a boldness that was invented only by her.
He remembered it, in a whisper from another
Or the flick of auborn hair
A voice, like hers, but not.
He would turn and again be disappointed to find
She was not there.
For love is so rare, that in a beat it is everlasting
Or gone.
A womans hand is poised, placed downward
He knew it wasnt hers
For hers was always open
Waiting for another.


I'm either on the brink of a break through or a break down!
I guess my awareness of that fact, eliminates the going mad factor. After all, the lunatic being dragged off never questioned their sanity. They knew they were sane as they screamed "I am the Queen of England and also a rabbit!" Hence, I should relax and look forward to the break through.

It is so tiring being up and positive and strong. Or at least it is, when it feels so little that returns. The IRS check to %Jayne continues its weirdness, as all my paperwork was returned yesterday, as return to sender. Return to sender from the IRS address, in their envelope!!! I phoned them, and was on hold for 38 minutes when the phone went dead.

I keep working, keep plugging away. Searching for opportunities, or letting go and just trusting that things will arrive. My eyes are open for things I may enjoy. I loved seeing a man driving his duck boat today in Boston. I presume, going back to the depot, that huge orange vehicl…

Penny Saving Moves

OK everyone you like it when I'm honest - so here it is - get ready.

In my new life,  I am spending way too much time and money on my constant need and lust for sparkling water. I just can not get enough of it. I am satisfied, only to turn over and need another bottle. How will I ever afford my plane ticket to Hawaii?
So, it has been remarked that you can get contraptions that will fizz your own waters. No need for the midnight run to CVS for a cold sparkling one. When you can just do it yourself from the tap. No conversation required, no money, just press and bing-bong, hello to the savor of a thirst!
So today was the day and with the many vouchers and Kohls coupons that have mated in the bottom of my bag - I bought my very own shiny Soda Stream. (Someone famous should/could/would name their baby Soda, it's pretty cute when you think of it.)

Now please know I work hard to live with my fear of electricity, gas and explosions. I think it may have something to do with a gas expl…

Widow Talk - Straight from The Gut

There are many things (including absolutely everything) that I hate about being a widow.
Here is one, that I have read and heard said about other widows and widowers. I admit, it has now been said about me.

If you happen to go on a date - a remark you may hear is: "Wow, she didn't waste much time."

Yeah, being a widow is real easy when your body is surprisingly and annoyingly craving touch because the person who has slept to your left or right for the last number of years has now gone, forever. Not because they divorced you, dumped you, are on vacation, or a business trip - that familiar touch will never be returned because they are dead and that is forever. I can spout about eternal love, and yeah, I believe in it. Though right now, I will pay you with blood and cake in exchange for ten more years of physical time, rather than the mystical, gazing at stars, begging for answers love, that I am left with.

You are craving touch, yet your heart is wanting the accustomed…

Fat Burning Hack

My Tweeter account just got hacked and sent out a tweet from me, sharing information on my fat burning secrets.
I laughed for about an hour (well half a second, in fact it was a scoff, not a laugh) because........

1) Just call me Gwyneth Paltrow!
2) Me on a diet is like the Pope bringing back "I loved the Breasts in Brazil" t Shirt.
3) Yesterday I was given a Taiwan Cucumber to eat. I promise you, it was a cucumber, not some type of vegetarian happy ending accident.
4) Me sending a tweet, because I have not done that for at least a year, and now I wonder if
hacking me, wasn't just Tweeter, to get me to sign back on again and consider Tweeting again.
5) Fat burning - ha! The only fat burning I do is to light a candle.
6) I take laxatives, so that I have something to do the next day, not to lose weight.
7) My real secret to losing weight this summer, is all the mosquito bites that I am collecting. At one point, the bites were looking like a dot to dot puzzle, and I swear …

It's August

There is a part in the movie Ghostbusters, where the men are crouching on the roof-deck waiting for the big ghost or ghoul to arrive, when they remember that it can be created into whatever form they desire. The only restriction being that it is their first thought. Hence a giant Mr Marshmallow sailor waddles around the corner.

What if every month, your thirty or thirty one days were designed around the first thought you had as you awoke on that morning of each first?
Think on today, your own morning. August 1st. Was it a good moment, thus becoming a good month? Hopeful? Funny? Full of stress, worry? Relaxed, languid, pondering? Smiling, frowning?

How sweet, private and intelligent are those first thoughts. How often do you pay attention to them? Yet, perhaps they hold a magic that guides your day. Or educates you on what would be healthy for you. Telling you what you need rather than what you think you want. Full of true wisdom before the brain translates. Is a sad mood, perhaps just…

My David at One Year

I need to believe today that there is a reason for everything.
I need to believe that there are no end dates.
So here are your own words today, my dearest David, from April 27 2001.

A true relationship that holds love abiding means that you can love each other
knowing the beauty and the blemishes. Each others laughter and tears.
Each others calm and anger. To see one another whole, and love regardless.
It is a place where there is plenty of talk, and no talk at times because things
are so well understood. It is not a guest book. It does not take place of the need
sometimes for solitude. It is a messy and dance filled place, and a quiet
reading books with legs touching place. It is like home in the best
of all thought and senses.

We did all that my love. We did.

Always with love.

Hour Glass Life

It stuns me, at 4am on a Thursday morning, how much I have already forgotten (or buried) of the turmoil that was accepted as a wife caring for a young Alzheimer's husband. For perhaps six years, it grew steadily in its tornado strength and destruction, with two years of cancer before that.

The ache and bewilderment of being a widow is absolutely nothing compared to what a care giver endures, as they witness and support their loved one dissolve before their eyes. The blankness, the aggression, the hours of sleeplessness, the following, the cleaning, the crying, the banality, the accusations - well I need not go on, they are all titles of television dramas starring Kevin Bacon, or just a melting moment for people dealing with this disease.

It continues to take my body, mind, heart and very soul, time to recover from the physical and mental effect of being the main care giver. I know I am still healing, and I am not referring to the widow side of it. My desire for a vacation, change…

Just Words

Just Words

I miss the cook books we had on the shelf
The crazy colors in the hall
The two doors to the bathroom
The smell of the wood in the summer.
Our deckchairs in the car.
A captured, tiny time
When things were forest green.

You took my hand today while I was driving
And said where you are, was so incredibly beautiful.
That everything now made sense
That you were happier
Happier than you had ever been.
You liked my new home
Knew how hard I was trying
The hours I worked.
The strength of my longing.
How my fears had changed
How life had changed.

What should I do I asked
When I knew you were truly there
You said I need to be happier.
Nothing more.
A simple step, perhaps -
Just happier.
It all has a place and a time
And things can and will be a different green.
If I allow.
It all makes sense in the end.

Eleven Months without David

Dear David

Couldn't write until now, two days after the 20th.
Struggling to know what to say, what to feel, what to do. Who knows?
We all make everything up as we go along.

A man came into the store today who looked like you, just a touch. Could have been dressed by you and had your manners and charm. Susan spoke to him, I couldn't, though later I told her why and proudly showed off a photograph of you I keep with me. Later, while sitting on my balcony, your car, well not your car, came around the corner and instantly I am full yet again of the "David Died" parade. It hits me at least ten times a day and yet still catches me off guard. Yet, I smile, call it a headache, a passing thought while my heart shakes itself to see if it still pumps.

The depth of this grief has truly surprised me. It's like discovering that the ice cream well is bottomless - except half way down you realize it's not ice cream.

As I keep saying, I miss you and I miss all the things that…

Four I Wonders for a Tuesday

I wonder if I am the only person who cannot wear thong sandals?
Who the hell invented those?
There are tons of lovely looking sandals out at the moment, with gems, small heels or flats, great colors, simple or creative and they all end in the torture chamber of the toe being seperated.
Not only is the seperation a racial slur against your own toes, it is a dumb example of putting too much pressure on one area.
It hurts. I try it, and it hurts. If Jesus had those sandals, they would not have needed to nail him to the cross.
How do you do it? Is it a virginity thing? Did I skip a special class? Am I too late to register?
Will someone please try to make a sandal look attractive for people who wish to keep their toes together!

I wonder where the mouse has gone that has been running around Max The Cat for a week?
Being far too tired to do anything about the squeals coming from both animals, I simply turned over and let them at it. This continued for four nights and now nothing.
I await to f…

Swinging Back & Forth

Last couple of days have been tough. Full of churning memories from last year. I have felt sick with sadness and the anger I so like to deny. Remembering the hospital corridors, the deceiving beauty of the outside, that elevator, the wait by the locked door.

David and I both individually and as a couple loved being outside. As soon as snow had melted we would be packing the deckchairs ready for the beach. Nobody could tan like David, and he used to say: "Well I gotta be good at something."

It is literally ripping my heart at the seams to think that the last two months of his life were spent inside. I hate this. I keep telling myself that there is no point in going over last year, yet how do I let go of this pain?

Trying to be busy, yes, I am doing that. Tons of work, an innate ability to go places alone, great, yep, I'm doing that, Advil PM, Bowie playing loud in the car with all the windows down, yep, got it covered, and yet, I cannot reach peace or even a second where …

My David at Ten Months

Wow, ten months ago today. I remember the day perfectly, and it seems, both a lifetime and a second just past.

It's been a month of regular heart beats. Tons of work of the new simplistic form that I have been fortunate enough to find. The arrival of a brand new grand child, with the sweetest of hopeful smiles. Some grueling moments and some absolutely, delightfully surprising ones. Faces that are loving enough to comfort me and new ones who never saw the pain of the last few years, yet have the intelligence to accept a quietness or occasionally a hesitation of thought.

I realize how badly my confidence has been knocked and how poorly I have taken care of myself, both physically and that of my spirit. It is simply a splendid joy when I connect to that true and tender part of me and how lucky I feel when those times arrive. Coffee with old, wine with new, either, I am thrilled.

Flying to be with Mum while she underwent medical tests was a twist of emotions for me. I could see my D…

Love from Jayne

Dear Sleep -
I am so sorry that we broke up. I understand you want to see other pillows, though my laundry skills are truly at their best and my linens actually match now, so how picky can you be?
You said it wasn't me - that it was you.
Well, OK I get that and its not that I need sleep, who needs sleep!
I just wouldn't mind spending a night or two with you again, because without you, baby, I'm a mess.
My shadowed eyes are making me look like Zorro, and that would be OK if I had a horse, but I don't.
Though yawning is handy for throwing food inside, its not that polite while trying to work.
So, would you, could you? You know I rarely ask and it doesn't take much - just a couple of hours.
What do you think?Just another Saturday night for old times sake!
Love from Jayne

To whom it may concern -
For the wonderful people who sent my tax return, thank you, I'm really pleased.
Without being fussy though, couldn't you have written my full name on the check?
I know…

David at Nine Months

You know when something is troubling you, and it isn't the thing that is really troubling you? Like when you imagine punching the stranger who stands too close to you in a line? It's not them that you really want to punch. It's the idiot spouse/boss/parent/friend who let you down, lied, tore your shirt - whatever - you know what I mean.

Well recently I have been finding myself more vulnerable over the smallest of things and tonight I just asked myself; am I really this upset (and I mean snot and tears and no sleep despite sleeping pills) just because of something someone said?
No - here is what I am really upset about....and this takes courage for me to share.

It's nine months today that David died and I can't stand the traumatic happenings of last year that lead to his death. I cant stand myself for letting him stay in the absurd and atrocious McLean Hospital. That I was bullied by the staff and other people into agreeing that David stay there and receive barbaric…

When eyes connect

Along with millions of others, I was deeply saddened yesterday upon hearing the news of three bombs during the Boston marathon. This evening, through Facebook, I saw the photograph of Martin Richard holding a handwritten sign that states: "No more hurting people. Peace."
He was the eight year old victim who was waiting for his Dad to pass that finish line.
I am stunned when I read things like this. My heart sank and then I felt it open even wider.

At the time of the first explosion, 2:50pm, I had sent an email to a friend. I had in fact titled it 2:50pm.
Life is that small. Yet actions are so incredibly wide and varied.
At 2:50pm you have my tiny act of friendship and at the same time a heartless act of terrorism.

We have no control over one another nor indeed any thing. Health permitting, we have every control over our own actions, and all I know from this much grief, is that I choose to care deeply about the humanity that crosses my very small path. That if I hear a heart…

Dear Charlotte

Dearest Baby Girl
Welcome to April. A month where it may shower with pretty rain or warm your arms in the sunshine, or both.
No matter how many weeds in the earth or negative weeds of words, you will always find bursts of color reaching out from the ground. It's your month of cozy blankets, miniture hats, overwelming smiles and brand new fingers to curl around.
Thank You my dear soul for bringing a joy to many hearts and that's just the beginning.

I will be here, your Nana Hannah, to always suggest fun, laughter and apologies to your parents that I may have recommended too much sugar!
I will show you how to dance, even though you already know. How to color outside of the lines, how to create your own stories to pictures and how to run toward the sun. How to bake bad cakes because it does not matter and how to listen, and then choose not to remember.
I will keep moving, so that you will always have an interesting place to visit.
I will keep growing, so that you always remain fe…

Eight Months of Widow Time

At eight months without David -

I watch couples holding hands with anticipation on their faces while they wait for whatever is next.
I smile for them. I love that expression. I enjoy beginnings. I adore Spring.

My body keeps holding itself tight, keeping everything in place and perhaps protected. I ache all the time and occasionally wonder if I will truly relax again.

I am often asked if I am over it yet. That is such a crap question. Are you over being ten years of age? Are you over the first time you drove a car? Are you over the first time you got really drunk and woke up next to a stranger? All of these things make a life. The good the bad and the ugly is a true story. It all makes you who you are.

I know I am growing. I know the moments I enjoy more than the times that suffocate. There are things I am holding onto and so much that I am releasing. My awareness of when fear gets in my way, needs to change to action. Its OK knowing this stuff, its what you do with it that counts.



While David had Alzheimer's, we would experience many changes throughout the day.
Happiness, fear, laughter, anger, wonder. Sheer terror at times. The comfort of the sand as it turned upside down to cold suspicion. Man, did he and I fight together to remain healthy. We clung to that cliff.  I can only accept his death in knowing that his sweetest nature is now peaceful.

It is incredible that the illness convinces the mind to see so many options in one single thing.
The possibilities were huge.

I am amazed that today I sit here feeling complete. As though this quilt has sewn it's final square. I now have the ability of seeing it as a whole and choosing which squares benefit and fulfill me. The ones that I treasure and value. The ones that have taught through sadness, sometimes pain and those that are so wonderful they light me up with their large, hopeful and bright stitches. This is my time where I get to choose.

This week I have been with people who actually like me. I am t…

The Oscars?

Movies focused on strength, truth, bravery, commitment to a solution that may not be possible.
Characters from fiction and those of a fearless life, who risk in order for others to live.
Power, beauty, the fight, determination and glory. Love where love has always been and love where it has never been.
These are the movies that were all nominated in the best movie category.

An Oscar is a tribute, is it not?

So, for Seth MacFarlane to include a song about boobs is pointless and cheap.
You all know me. I am not prudish. I love humor. However - This is the lack of class and respect that is being accepted as an outlook on life. And the winner is - Uninspired Trite.

It is downgrading our ability to live with eyes wide open. Would you laugh if a surgeon came from the operating room saying I saved his life, and guess what? I saw his dick.

If you have the qualities of voice, presence and natural charm, why would you get drunk and sing in the street while pissing on a Mercedes? Wouldn't …

My David at Seven Months

I now begin my seventh month of being a widow.
Each day I awake believing that something different will occur that will enable me to make sense of everything. The final chapter that explains what on earth the rest of the book was about. When you can say, well I got a bit bored, though I'm glad I finished it.

The focus of my sixth month was moving home. Not my choice. The preparation, going through every belonging, taping up boxes, crying over each piece of clothing, daily visits to donation drop offs and then the actual day. Three young men striding through your home removing furniture quickly from the places that had taken so long to choose.

The day I moved was the hardest day I have experienced. Ever in my life. Far, far harder than the time of passing or the funeral - which many people say is handled by the outer and/or inner spirits protecting you from the truth.

My love, my purpose, my safety, my protection was ripped out of me. I felt as though dreams, tears and laughter tha…

Four times of February 16

February 16th 1933
Charles Evans was born, my Dad. He could have been eighty today. I imagine he would have taken Mum to Portugal. They would have bought his favorite palmier pastry for breakfast and then walked to a store to buy something, anything, just to celebrate.
He loved the sun, to sit somewhere warm, to wander through markets and to see his family happy.
If men are to protect, provide and profess, he did all three without loud acclaim.
He was the man who taught me through action, the most about the social classes. He gave me the admiration and respect that I have for hard work. He gave me the ability to laugh and inspired the joy I have for the theater. He gave me long dresses to wear for special occasions and was my very first dance partner.
I felt like a princess sometimes.

February 16th 1973
My family moved from Poplar, East London to Blackheath, South East London. Huge difference, though only 4 miles apart, according to Google. Those two towns are like unsuccessfully spre…

I will surprise

I Will Surprise. Thank You Gloria Gaynor 

At first I was afraid. I was petrified.
Kept thinking, I have just moved in and now the power’s died.
But then I spent the night unpacking, eating cold egg foo wong
And I grew strong, and wrote a red wine drinking song.

And now it’s back, the power’s back
I just woke up to find the lights are on and the heat is blasting hot
I should have brought my only shovel, where did I leave my key?
My car is buried neath the snow and a plowman is helping me!

Go on now, come, walk through my door, don’t turn around now
Cause all are welcome evermore.
Aren't I the one who says I’ll bake that apple pie
Did you think my cookies crumble? Did you think they’d be that dry?

Oh yes I am. I am Rhode Island.
Oh, as long as I can find a glass, there’ll always be some wine
Rhode Island is where I live, I've got all my love to give
And I'll surprise, I will surprise! (hey hey)

It took all the strength I had not to fall apart
Kept trying …

A poem for the day

Getting Older?

You know you are getting older when:

1) You wonder why young people always poke their tongues out in photos.
2) You realize that you mean twenty year olds when you say young people.
3) You need to go to the bathroom, yet you can't be asked to get up.
4) You are reluctant to call the help desk for anything connected to cell phones, becauseyou know you won't understand the terminology.
5) You know you could understand the terminology if only you could hear it.
6) You kind of wish the TV, phone and internet were not bundled, because it meanscoping with three confusing things at once.
7) You scroll for longer when adding the year you were born.
8) You look at all the names of people who liked something you put on Facebook.
9) You think you are doing great because you are on Facebook.
10) You find old checks you wrote and exclaim; "And you thought that was expensive!"
11) You find old checks that you wrote, because those were the days when your old checks were sent back to you ever…

My David at Six Months

Six months ago today, my David passed away from Early on Set Alzheimer's Disease. He was as bold and determined in his illness as he tried to be in his life. He was only 58 and I miss him even more now that the reality has truly hit me. He is not coming back.

Love is a funny thing for me and he was the love of my life, even though we did not have the chocolate box romance that both of us imagined we would have.

Most days I feel exhausted and fight giving in to that, though on unimportant days I walk with the emotional strain clearly showing on my face, in my hair and on the choice of clothing.

I think far too much. Do not really sleep that well. Feel bitter, sad, disappointed, occasionally optimistic and so relieved when I imagine David spinning around feeling healthy again and doing everything that he always wanted to. I hope.

Being a widow teaches you so much, yet it's like taking the best educational course you have ever had while not being able to type up the notes or read…