Tag: grief

46 Posts Here

The Price of Love

August 2, 2020.Momentos.#grief

I was walking Chester yesterday when a woman approached me to ask why she hadn’t seen my little dog lately – I had to explain, again, that Olive was gone.  The woman seemed genuinely moved by the news and I had another middle of the day whoosh of sadness. I miss that little dog like crazy. […]

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Some days it’s all too much

April 21, 2020.COVID diary.#covid19

Something in the too early of this morning made me want to cry. I can’t put my finger on exactly what it was, I have a smorgasbord of heart aches to choose from; the state of the world, the terrible news from Nova Scotia, the uneven snore of the little old dog sleeping beside me […]

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New friends

March 7, 2020.Writing From The Wound.#friends

I remember the first new friend I made after my mother died – it was a remarkable experience, extraordinary in its simplicity.  I sat down beside a woman at a Little League baseball game and we began to chat. Our sons were both nine at the time and playing on the same team, both of our […]

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It’s March … again

March 2, 2020.Writing From The Wound.#grief

I’ve been tossing and turning since the wee hours of the morning, my mind is too busy to sleep.  Memories of two years ago are being muddied by the memory of last year and I’m a mess.   Two years ago we were stepping into a month of horror, living the end of the beginning of that […]

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Christmas is on its way

November 30, 2019.Writing From The Wound.#grief

There’s a chill in the air this week – the season is about to change. The grass is frosted in the morning and the metal latch on the gate is being stubborn. The wind has been chasing brittle leaves across the sidewalk, their scurrying edges clicking on the pavement like the high heels of fairies […]

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A Different Vantage

November 20, 2019.Writing From The Wound.#grief

This past weekend my daughter and I attended a fundraiser in aid of a new hospice residence – the keynote speaker, a recent widow, was billed to talk about her experience with hospice.  As the master of ceremonies began her introduction my daughter, fearing I might find the speech upsetting, quietly asked if I’d like […]

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My last night at home

April 6, 2019.Writing From The Wound.#grief

The dogs have gone to bed with their usual cookies – they have been a little confused with the action in here of late but they’ve coped with it in dog fashion, a couple of treats and all is well with the world. The same cannot be said for me.  I am tucking myself into […]

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Moving Along

March 11, 2019.Writing From The Wound.#grief

If it’s true that the state of your home reflects the state of your mind then I am in rough shape; muddled and confused.  I’m not sure where I am in the process of this move – the starting gate is buried and the finish line is drawing ever nearer, I think the half way […]

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Learning to live with grief

March 7, 2019.Writing From The Wound.#grief

The month of March used to herald spring, blustery days whispered winter was almost over and brighter days lay ahead. That isn’t what it’s whispering this year, this year it hasn’t heralded anything but the end of the month and it’s only whispering memories.  Last March is a blur, I couldn’t tell you what was […]

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Homesick

February 18, 2019.Writing From The Wound.#grief

I talk a good talk, I pretend I can take change on the chin, but I’m not coping nearly as well as I’m letting on. My stuff and I have been hanging around together for a LONG time – granted, it’s been a one sided love affair but we are attached nonetheless.   We packed […]

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