First Breakdown of the Day

I want to post lots of good memories posts.  Lots of happy memories posts.  

And I do have a lot of good, happy memories. 

But right now – I’m in the middle of a breakdown.   The memories overwhelmed me.   I couldn’t find a way to distract myself. 

And now…. hopefully last breakdown for the day.  

3 hours later… 

nope.  Not the last one. 


But out of today comes the decision to donate my wedding gown to Angel Gowns here in BC.   I checked with my daughter and she’s ok with it – it will do something good for people going through a hard time. 

Mar & Jane Wedding

About Robin Williams

It has been a week since I read about Robin Williams’ death. 

A week ago, I was sitting at my desk, in a relatively unpopulated office (myself and 2 others) that was fairly quiet, but we were busy. 

I had taken a moment to break from the busy-ness and check Facebook out. 

And there it was, Robin Williams dead of apparent suicide. 

I exclaimed (I didn’t really think people did that, but hey!  I did it…)  out loud and fairly suddenly… “HOLY FUCK ROBIN WILLIAMS DIED”

My co-workers looked at me in disbelief. 

I then reached for my phone to call my husband.  We were both big fans and I knew he’d be devastated to hear the news, if he hadn’t already. 

Wait.  Back up.  I can’t call him.   He DIED 2 years ago. 

I didn’t expect the wave of grief over a celebrity’s death.  No matter how popular, how talented, how beloved… it was sad news, but not something that should have triggered a wave of grief. 

But it was there.  Because I wanted to tell Mark about Robin Williams.   Because, even after 2 years… once in a while for a split second, I forget that he died.  And it’s like losing him all over again. 

A friend of mine, another widow, signed off of facebook for the day – it was too hard for her to see the news pop up in her feed all day.   I tried to stay online.  I tried to let go.   I was, for a brief period of time, grateful that I was out of cell range and couldn’t see my Facebook timeline.   Because then I didn’t have to read about Robin Williams’ death.  I didn’t have to feel bad.  I didn’t have to remember for that tiny moment how I reached out to call my husband. 

I hope that Mark and Robin are somewhere out in the cosmos, having coffee, laughing, and telling each other jokes.  Mark had the best laugh.  The best smile.  He had this one crooked tooth… he hated it.  But I loved it because it was part of his smile.   So I hope that they are enjoying a good laugh…. loving their wives from beyond… remembering the good times and the love and laughter we shared. 

I know I do. 

Grief Is Like the Ocean


Learning to Let Go

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a moment to myself to write.  Since I’ve had time to just sit and reflect on where I am, where I’ve been and where I might be going. 

My life has gotten fairly reactionary in the past few years – most recently it’s gotten extremely reactionary. 

Everything is exaggerated since he died.  My fears.  My loneliness.   How much I miss him. 

It all seems BIGGER somehow.  

I hate waking up alone.  I hate going to sleep alone.  So much that it has caused a problem with my current relationship.  The waking up alone without him there… so reminiscent of waking up alone after Mark went into the hospital. 

I want, more than anything, to be ok in my own skin.  To be able to be alone and at peace.  To enjoy quiet moments without overthinking this or that problem.   To just *be* and enjoy it. 

I sit here, as I write this, and my chest is pounding.  I have the familiar feeling of anxiety, of stress, of fight or flight.   I sit here, wondering how I’m going to make it through the night and how I’m going to sleep.  Am I going to have to chemically induce sleep?  Or have a drink?  Or…?  

I’m scared of going to bed alone, and waking up and he’s never coming back.  That’s what happened.  He got sick.  He was taken to the hospital.  I went to bed… and he never came home. 

Totally irrational fear. 

But it’s there. 

And because of the nature of my man’s work – I get to experience this anxiety and stress 4 days out of ever 16.  IF he doesn’t do nighttime overtime. If he does – then it’s worse. 

I don’t do well those weeks. 

One has nothing to do with another.  Mark didn’t die because I went to bed alone. I get that.  And Mike will not die while away from me at night either. 

And yet I sit here… wondering what method I’ll use to get myself to fall asleep, stay asleep and enjoy my sleep. 

Even though I’m going to wake up alone.