Category: Writing From The Wound

145 Posts Here

Home Run

September 20, 2018.Writing From The Wound

September 19, 2018. A birth day. A solemn day. A day of remembrance.  We took him to Mount Baker, to the place of happy memories and connection. To where we learned what family means, what family is. Just the four of us. The four of us and the box containing the physical remainder of him […]

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Sorting the debris

September 18, 2018.Writing From The Wound

I’ve been working my way through the clutter of an unexpected exit (this sentence doesn’t do the chore justice).  I am wading through mountains of paper, trying to sort out someone else’s procrastinations and it’s a shit show. It’s another thing on a long list of things I never wanted to do. It feels like […]

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Hindsight and Forgiveness

September 8, 2018.Writing From The Wound.#forgiveness

I would love to say I was the perfect, patient, loving spouse in those last few months of my husband’s life but the truth is I wasn’t. I was frustrated and angry and terrified. We didn’t know what the hell was going on and he and I were coming at the problem from two different […]

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Milestones – the 200th Post

September 6, 2018.Momentos.#grief

I am a person who likes to measure things, it motivates me. I began blogging in May 2017, in December I posted my 100th essay – a milestone.  I celebrated the mark with a blog: I started the blog unsure about what I would write about – it turns out I’m not fussy, I will […]

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One step at a time

September 4, 2018.Writing From The Wound.#Grief. Recovery

I still wake up some mornings and get splashed in the face with overwhelming sadness, other days it arrives like a soaker; ice cold grief seeping through my shoes, into my socks and numbing me from my feet up. Either way I get drenched on a daily basis. I thought I’d be further down this […]

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On my way

September 2, 2018.Momentos.#grief

I was walking the dog this afternoon, the sun was shining and a fall breeze was pushing newly dried leaves across the sidewalk.  I was lost in thought; visions of back to school and days of yore; when a motorcycle screeched to a stop at the corner. I’m not up on motorcycles, one looks much […]

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Leaving a mark

August 29, 2018.Momentos.#grief

I’ve been walking beaches, picking up shells, feeling the wind on my face and listening to the surf. I have been lulled by the sea. My mind has wandered and I have been touched by the vastness of time.  Eternity makes a person feel small – eternity makes this day short and splendid and unique. […]

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Footprints and the gift

August 27, 2018.Momentos.#memories

Travel log — the beach Some things never change even as children grow up and grammas grow old.  The beach – freedom, adventure, wild things.  Magic.  The wind breathes it and the surf echoes – magic. I have been drenched in magic. I have sand in my shoes and a smile on my face – […]

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A Chink in my Armor

August 25, 2018.Writing From The Wound.#grief

I know the exact moment I turned into a machine, the minute my emotions dulled and I began to just function.  It was like I walked into a wall and it hurt like hell.  I remember gasping, burying my face in my hands and slumping into myself with such force I could hardly breathe.  But […]

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taking another step…

August 23, 2018.Writing From The Wound.#grief

Travel Log. Day one I’m taking a holiday and I’m excited about it and tentative at the same time – it’s my first trip alone to this particular place.  It isn’t the drive that’s giving me pause, it’s nostalgia. The west coast of Vancouver island was one of our favorite places to visit, it holds […]

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