Category Archives: Grief

Lichen On His Stone

I hadn’t been to visit Eric’s grave for a long time. Six months? More? I’m quite sure there was no lichen on the rose granite headstone the last time I was there. Now there is. I thought, this looks like … Continue reading

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“Every Day I Have to Figure Out How to Detach Enough

to have a life that isn’t consumed with anxiety and terror.” “How’s it going,” Jon Lovett asks. “It’s difficult, man.” So says Marc Maron in this week’s podcast of Lovett or Leave It. Maron goes on to counsel that you … Continue reading

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A Ball to the Head

Thursday was my first full day at home without any commitments since returning from Ireland. I planned to garden and open the memoir file on my computer and start to sort out my next steps in the revision process. Instead, … Continue reading

Posted in Gardening, Grief, Home, Moving On, Writing | 4 Comments

In It for the Moss

When I was first working on climbing the 48 peaks over 4,000 feet in New Hampshire’s White Mountains, I had many companions. Eric came on most of the hikes, sometimes Adrienne or Sam, and many different groups of friends. But … Continue reading

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Haunted

Last night I went to the 4th of July BBQ I’d planned to be part of two years ago. A lakeside camp, boats, swimming, friends and lots of my friends’ family including adults I’ve known since they were kids now … Continue reading

Posted in Family, Grief, Life Changes, Moving On | 1 Comment

Deathaversaries: When Dates Line Up

  This deathaversary season (what Adrienne, Sam and I call the anniversary of Eric’s, or anyone’s, death) has felt harder than other years. Or do I say that every year? I don’t think so. The accumulation of other losses, the … Continue reading

Posted in Family, Grief, Life Changes, Light, Moving On, Seasons, Time | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

#daylightsavingstime

My conversation with Adrienne about daylight savings time started on Instagram. Under her photo of scrambled eggs and coffee she wrote daylight savings is weird. #theend. When I commented I want my hour back she replied every year! Time for the … Continue reading

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