I remember the first Thanksgiving without him. The first real holiday we would gather and my husband of 25 years, and father to our three sons, would not be there. He died almost 5 months before. And I felt nowhere near ready to face a family holiday such as this. Advertisements
In the notes of a song or the scent of a shirt. In the softness of a blanket or the crease of a shoe. In a picture on a table or a note in a drawer. That’s where grief lives. In a view from a window or the silence in a room. In a book […]
This post was originally published in 2010 on the one-year anniversary of my husband’s death. The week It is “the week.” The week to get through. The week to face. The week to endure. It is the one year anniversary of Roger’s death. His suicide.
So now my boys are all home at the same time…for a little while at least. Jordan and Dylan are home from college for the summer, and Logan of course, is always here (being still a freshman in high school). Dylan however will be leaving in about a week as he heads out on a […]