Posted on June 4, 2020
From the time you stop counting the minutes between your spouse’s last breaths of earthly oxygen (I stopped at 7 minutes and 23 seconds before I called my dad to my husband’s hospice bed in the dining room to help me count), shit gets real…real fast.
Posted on June 2, 2020
I was almost proud of myself today.
I made it almost an entire day, at least from 5 a.m. until about 6:50 p.m. without crying once. And by crying, I mean even feeling that ball of tears start wadding itself up in the middle of my gut. You don’t have to have waterworks to cry, you know.
Posted on May 30, 2020
*originally published online 9.12.16
- “What did you do with all his clothes?”