I Finished It…

The cross stitch piece I was working on.   The one that caused me so much pain and anxiety and nausea that I could barely breathe.

I finished it last night…

There was some stress, some anxiety, I wouldn’t let anyone leave until I was done… but I finished it.

I’m going to have it framed, and then put it on my wall near him.

After I was done – we sat and checked out Bev’s wedding photos.

Don’t get me wrong – Bev was a gorgeous bride.  She had a dream wedding.  I love her and am extremely happy for her… Her pictures were amazing…

And they left me a little (ok a lot) sad.

I was looking at these pictures of this perfectly done, beautifully set wedding; this gorgeous porcelain doll bride and I wanted to cry.

He mother and father were there.  She was there.  Everyone was coupled up (that I could see) and I kept thinking… I miss him.. 😦

The other thought was that I couldn’t imagine being that happy again.  Loving someone so much that I wanted to share that moment with them…

At that moment, I felt so alone… 😦

She was gorgeous.  And oh so freaking happy.  And I’m happy for her.

Advice…. Still Resonates…

This was sent to me after I posted about my first week as a widow…

You have my deepest sympathy dear. The pain lessens, the shock fades in time. Be strong.

As you say, your life changed irrevokably. Very true. You must now chart a course for a new life for yourself and children. It will not be easy perhaps even the hardest thing you’ve ever done. In time you’ll find a path for you. It may take a very very long time, years even but it will come. Let your heart be your guide upon that path. Listen to it. When it sends confused messages, wait until they become clearer.

I will tell you know, you will always mourn your husband. You will always miss him. You will always feel his absence. You will always feel his love. You will always feel your love for him. These will never change. In time, you will learn to cope with this and you will be able to use this to give you strength.

Grief will change you. In many ways for the better. In some ways not so much. You will treasure people and experiences more, material things less. Sometime’s you’ll feel weak and that no one understands, othertimes you’ll feel stronger than anyone you know and that you understand things they’ll never begin to comprehend.

There are grief support groups. Consider joining one. Ask for support when you need it. Others may not offer it otherwise or know what support to offer.

Now is YOUR time. Time for you to take care of yourself. Find whatever gives you any happiness, joy. Do things you never thought you would. Enjoy the sunshine, feel the breeze like you’ve never felt it before. It is YOUR time in life to grow, to learn, to take care of yourself, to heal, to relax, to chart the course the rest of you life will take, to listen to your heart. Now is the time for yourself. Be good to yourself.

Do not spend time in worry about what others think you should do or how they think you should grieve. Grief is your’s to express in your own unique manner and not how others think you should.

If you are a person of faith, any faith whatever it may be, now is the time to lean upon it for guidance, wisdom, support. If not then disregard this and I cannot comment further and I mean no offense.

Let go of guilt over whatever may trouble you about your husband, your relationship with him over the years, his pain, his passing. Be strong in knowing that you were there for him, loved him, and did what you could and felt was right for him. Look in the mirror and tell yourself that you cared for him, you loved him, you took care of him, and were strong for him. Be proud of that, as you should be.

Your Doctor is wise, ” We’re not human beings on a spiritual path, we’re spiritual beings on a human path” He gave you great insight there. Spend time meditating on what this means. It will give you insight, comfort, understanding, and in time peace. Keep in touch with this doctor for your own needs, if possible. I think he can help.

With Sympathy and Empathy for your loss.

Life is the Question, Love is the answer.

This still resonates… it’s still as true now as it did 8 weeks ago.  I wanted to repost this to my blog so that I wouldn’t lose it…

9 weeks ago today… we said good-bye….

He’s Supposed To Be Here

To celebrate my successes.  To encourage me to go further.  To push me to do better.  To hug me when I feel I’m failing. To love me.
He’s supposed to be here.

He’s not dammit.

I did a fantastic workout… one that I had previously been unable to complete…and as I did the final stretches… I wanted to look up at his chair and see him there encouraging me and smiling down at me and telling me how proud he is.


Who am I going to share all the small successes with?   Who’s going to understand and be there to hug me when I pass my 25 in 5 and finally get to play?


I miss him so much.

The TMI Post

Warning…. this post is full of TMI (too much information) and this is your one chance to close the browser, hit the delete button, or in general, bypass this post.

While you take the time to decide if you want to read about TMI… here’s an LOLcats picture for you.


So back to my post.

I have a sex drive.  I have a MAJOR sex drive.  When I’m not seriously depressed, when my brain allows me to be in a good mood… I’m beyond horny.

At the same time… I have an involuntary, serious aversion to being touched in any sexual manner…  Someone was joking around with me and I just about bit their head off (this was a good friend – that kind of joking has never been an issue before).

I talked to my psychiatrist about it today – it is something that has developed since he died.

So yeah – sending off serious mixed signals… to MYSELF.  UGH.

It’s a bit of a problem for me.

It has been almost 8 months.  8 months without intimate contact with another person…  😦  I had one almost one-night-stand after he died… but came to my senses – realized how crappy I would feel the next day.   Drunk sex is not a good option when you’re grieving.

So yeah.  Stuck in a distressing cycle of “high sex drive-don’t touch me” hormones… 😦

I miss him so much.  No one knew me as well as he did.  Losing him changed so much – I lost my partner, my companion, my best friend, my lover….


Saying Goodbye Publicly

Tomorrow we will celebrate the life of Mark Wellington Smith.

Tomorrow we will say our final goodbyes… at least publicly.

Tomorrow we will all gather together to laugh, love and remember the reMARKable man that my husband was.

He fought for 5 1/2 months against the disease that ravaged his body.

He fought to stay with us – but his body was overwhelmed by everything and in the end, he made the decision to go on his time, not when his body gave up.

And tomorrow… we say good bye.

Family, friends and fishing buddies – they will all get a chance to say their good byes… and for the afternoon… we will celebrate his life and everything he was.

I miss you Mark…

The Wedding Video…

When we got married 13 years ago… my friends created a wedding video for us.

It got lost in the shuffle, didn’t make it to VHS, got stuck in a box got moved 3 or 4 times, and never made it into my hands.

I didn’t really think about the wedding video.  Every once in a while I asked about it, there was always things preventing it being transposed to a viewable tape.

A lost camera.  A lost cord.  A move.  Lots of reasons.   And 13 years later… I got it.

8 weeks after his death.

I never got to watch it with him.

I have, however, seen it 3 times this week.   I will watch it many more times.

I’m sad that I never got to watch this with him… but so eternally grateful I have it now.

It was lovely watching the ceremony.  It was nice seeing the “congratulations” and the first dance and the family and the whole thing…

But what got me…. what is more precious than anything… was the 30 seconds of the camera being on Mark.   Him looking into the camera, telling me he loves me.

Those moments of seeing HIM.  Hearing HIM.

He looks so much the same.  His voice sounds the same.

Those 30 seconds are worth more than anything to me…. I will never lose his laugh, his voice, his smile, or HIM….  He is forever captured in those 30 seconds – everything that connected him to me.  Everything that connected me to him.

No I’m Not Okay.

I’m sitting here trying to get control of the feeling of being strangled.

I’m sitting here trying desperately not to cry.

I’m sitting here looking at the time and wondering how I’m going to pull it together enough to go to practice in less than 2 hours.

Today would have been our 13th wedding anniversary.  Today would have been a day where we would love each other, and he’d cook dinner for me, and we’d sit on our back deck having a romantic candlelight dinner.

And instead I’m planning his memorial.

I’m staring at the flowers my friend Chantal bought me.  We share the same wedding anniversary.

I’m trying to pull myself together enough to go out in public.

My children are all away.

My husband is gone.

I have a friend here who is wonderfully, incredibly helpful but I don’t know how to lean on her.

I miss him.  I miss the life we were planning on having together.  I miss the promises we made to each other.

13 years… 13 years out of the 50 we promised each other.

I love you, Mark.  I miss you more every day.


I Got the Tattoo….

I had planned on having a memorial tattoo done in honour of my husband.   I had hemmed & hawed over what to get and where on my body to get it.

Something under my left breast?  Close to my heart?

Something on my right ankle, as a part of the tattoo for my kids?

Nothing really seemed right.

Then I remembered the tattoo I got done that included my wedding flowers – and I thought – wedding flowers… a single lily on my breast, with a hummingbird drinking from it, with Mark’s handwriting underneath it.  Some of Mark’s ashes were mixed in with the tattoo ink so he’s forever in my skin.

The tattoo turned out beautifully:


And I’m really really really happy with it.

There will be colour added to it in about a month… the redness is irritation from the tattooing.

The tattoo artist was Brian Snively of Sink the Ink Tattoo in Maple Ridge, BC.  I would recommend him to anyone.  He was kind, respectful, funny and fun to work with.   He was solicitous and I had a great time while it was being done.

This has been an incredibly emotional weekend.  Lots of tears, lots of laughter, and some pain to round it all off.   The pain was cathartic… and unexpectedly minor 😛

But the tears were what I needed the most.

I miss him, so very much.  Beyond what I thought I could ever feel.

But now I have a piece of him with me forever…

I Dreamed About Him Last Night

I hadn’t dreamed about him at all since he passed.   It was disturbing me slightly, but I figured since it took 5 years for Steve to come to me in a dream, it would happen eventually.

The dream was short… and I didn’t get to hear his voice…  but I talked to him… and cried…. and touched him….

He looked so healthy.  He looked so good.  He looked like he was pain free.  He looked like he did before he went into the hospital.

It was both comforting and upsetting to dream about him.   More comforting than upsetting… I miss him, and to know he’s still around me…  it makes me feel better, more at peace.


It’s hard to believe he’s gone.  It’s so freaking UNREAL… and accepting that is the hardest part of all this.

But last night… I got to touch him again.