28 years old. So young and full of life. Gone. In an instant. Now. Another moment in time. Another year passes. Now. It is all we have. This moment. The moment you are reading this. Soon your brain will begin to think and go into the past. It will go to the good times and then it will go into the future and the sense of loss will find it’s way to your heart. The cold, stark reality of what
January 17, 2040, is a significant day for me. It will mean I have gone through 10,000 days without Phil. My son. My baby whom I held in my arms and looked deeply into his eyes. The baby I bonded with, my foxhole buddy. My first born. My boy. In his book, Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell outlines the concept that you become a master at something after you have practiced it 10,000 times. I will be 76 years, 10 months, and
Emma’s Jaw before Surgery. Five years ago I was talking to our youngest daughter, Emma, and she threw her head back and laughed. In that moment I felt sheer terror. When she tipped her head back I was able to see an awkwardly grown jawbone jutting out the wrong way. I wasn’t sure what it all meant but it was the beginning of my awareness that something could happen to my child. Was it a tumor, cancer, a bone disorder
25 Years of Marriage My husband Paul and I just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary on the 22 of November, 2014. We went away for a few days and stayed in a cabin. We worked, ate, drank and relaxed. We went thrift store shopping and antique shopping and tried a few restaurants. It was a fun little trip. It has been difficult since Phil died. We are often quite tired and these little trips have become our escape from the
I am so lucky. I was thinking about everything that happened and how it is circumstances. I can never change the circumstances yet I can choose how I handle those circumstances. I really am fortunate. I am fortunate that I had 22 years with such a great kid. He taught me so much. He loved me. He helped me learn. I loved his smell, smile, quirks and enjoyed being around him. He had this great laugh and I am fortunate
My son is gone. I miss him. Today is the second of January. Yesterday was four months since the police showed up one beautiful afternoon and informed us my son was no longer a part of this earth. I still do not know how that can be. My son was healthy. He was strong. He was beautiful and perfect. Remembering my son at birth. I remember when my son was born. I carefully unwrapped him. He was my first born.