Susan, it’s hard to arrive at the stage in life when we begin to witness loss all around us. But all we can do is to cherish the moments. I wish I had done more of that. I do have the opportunity, through my writing, to relive those good moments. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I’m glad this piece touched you.
It’s been ten years for me. Still can’t…. Many of the things you say. Thanks. Sharing somehow helps. I too have a wonderful, strong supportive daughter. All the best
My deepest condolences on your loss, Danny. I’m so glad to hear that you’re blessed with a wonderful daughter. Thank you for sharing. My best to you as well.
Mary, deepest thanks… this is an especially powerful and illuminating post about your grief for a lost spouse, so many searing shards of memory. Losing one’s husband is one of the greatest fears for older women, like me, who have been married for decades. I’ll be posting soon on this topic (“How will I cope if I lose my spouse/partner”) and referring to this essay.
Thank you so much for your kind words, Debbie. It’s been hard, some moments more so than others. I wish I’d felt prepared. You’re doing a wonderful service by opening up the conversation on this topic, one that I know many of us were too afraid to discuss. I’m honored that you are sharing this, and hope my experience is helpful to others.🙏
I agree with you. This post is powerful and illuminating. Your words, "so many shards of memory" are perfect. I think about being the one left behind more and more, so I hear you. I look forward to reading your article about this topic when you write it. Talking about grief is so important.
Nancy, I’m glad this post touched you. Debbie has introduced an important topic. I’m looking forward to working together. You’re right, grief is so seldom discussed. This needs to change.
Big hugs, Mary. To you, your son and daughter, and Mini, love and best wishes. Love may grow around our grief, but these occasions pierce through and take us right back to the heart of things, the eye of the grief storm. Pulling up my own chair (with a cocktail) to sit alongside you.
🤣 Yup it's only 4pm, but I figure in our virtual world we can have virtual cocktails all day. Maybe brunch Mimosas. I hope Mini is doing ok. Over here, Mum and I are recovering from COVID +pneumonia & Strep throat...so taking it easy and counting our blessing and LOVING boring moments after all the stress these last weeks. Me-thinks I'll get the wine out later ;-)
Oof, what a trifecta of illness! So glad to hear that you’re recovering. Mini Cooper is hanging in there. I had to leave her at home for a couple of days, because I decided to take a brief trip to stay in a cabin by a lake. My daughter stops by to feed and visit with her, though. Hard to leave her alone, but the drive would have been stressful. Can’t have mimosas but I certainly have some stories to tell. That will be next week, if I make it home with car, body, and bank account
. . . unscathed. (Told you it was a story!) What’s life without adventure, right? I’m not injured, just unhinged. Thank goodness for telemedicine - figuratively, again - with my daughter. I hit the jackpot with her. ❤️💕Much love, and cheers!
Oh, things will be fine. Really. I made it here before dark, didn’t murder Siri or hit a deer or God forbid, a moose. I have heat and warm clothes and a roof over my head. I’ll live to tell the tale. That’s what matters.
Beautiful writing from the gret, as always. You make us feel it all, feel like we’re right there with you. Wish I could have been one of those friends by your side, ready with hugs or a glass of wine. Oncology blue made me laugh, the patio chairs too. You drop humor so well… between the tears in my eyes I can laugh.
Thank you for this raw, vulnerable piece, Mary. 💕And congrats on such a huge following… so well deserved! Love you’re going to try new things… teach me something new too! 😁😉And bless Mesa for her generosity… bless you for having the free library! You both are amazing and I’m honored to call you both dear friends! Love you! 🥰💕🫶
As always Mary, your storytelling is beautiful. I often feel like I’m right beside you as you take us through. I always want to hug you at the end. I can see and feel it all. Grief really is a clever thief and also, sometimes has a way of delivering us to one another at the same time.
Mesa, you’re so very kind. I love your observation that grief is not just a thief, but that it can sometimes deliver us to each other at the same time. Love to you in return!💕🫶❤️
You’ve captured year 2 of grief so well: the unexpected raw grief seeing the unplanned short video; the overwhelmingness of the things that need to be done like decks and the energy just.isn’t.there; the difficulty of reaching out to friends because death has changed you and you’re still discovering how it has and continues to.
I’m in the beginning of year 6. It’s a journey and we move forward, holding each other gently and with love. Thank you for this offering to widows and widowers, this gift from your heart to theirs. 💖💜💞💜💖
Joan, you are so sweet! Oncology blue, couldn’t resist. Breast Health is all shades of pink, from pale blush to mauve to raspberry. It fascinates me. My designer daughter tells me that there is an entire field in the profession, devoted exclusively to medical facilities and the psychological benefits of color and other aspects of healing. There’s a hospice specialty as well.
I feel so very blessed to have found a community on Substack. Definitely a dream come true. I thank the stars that you were there from the beginning. I don’t know if I could have kept going without you. I love every one of my subscribers. Despite the sadness, there are so many reasons to laugh. Big hugs. ❤️💕🫶🥰
So interesting about the medical colors…rare diseases/EDS which my grandgirl has, is purple. You’ve done an amazing job getting thru this second year… Thanks for sharing his birthday with us💕💔 I feel the same about you and Substack… why I could tell you all about my COPD before anyone else. A community of caring and loving people…I’d say we’ve found ours! 💕🫶
Hi Mary. Watch and wait. Keep an eye on it. That's how I lived for three years. For as much as I know about the nature of grief and grieving, I don't know where it begins. I'm pretty sure it never ends though. It doesn't always feel so overwhelming, not because it gets easier or time has stretched the pain thinner, but our capacity grows, and our brain and body recover a sense of equilibrium more readily. I accept that without grief for Steven, I cannot remember the love, so I feel both, usually at the same time. I feel sad going into another winter alone, but writing gives me purpose. Thank you for sharing your beautiful writing with us. I always look forward to your next post. XO 🥰❤️
Amy, what wise comments. “Our brain and body recover a sense of equilibrium more readily.” “I accept that without grief for Steven, I cannot remember the love, so I feel both, usually at the same time.” I’m finding this to be true. And writing definitely gives me purpose. Where would I be without Writer, interrupted? I’d still be stuck in one of those interruptions. I’m glad that this post resonated with you. I did get caught up in the writing. Will be back soon to catch up on your posts. Big hugs.🥰💕🫶
Mary, your writing always makes me cry as being left alone is my scariest worry. Like you, me & my husband of 50 years do everything together but I really wouldn’t know where to start alone. I think of you often & , although I’m sure, the feeling that part of you is missing never goes away, as my mother told me, you grow to accept it. I wonder…🩵
Wendy, fifty years is a true gift. And yes, the years do bring fear, along with denial and magical thinking. I believe that we both went through the same process of believing that if we didn’t acknowledge the reality of death, it would buy us time. How wrong that was! But none of can anticipate the challenges ahead. I think we need to take things as they come, and believe that we’ll incorporate the sorrow along with the joy. Blessings.🙏💕
"We'll keep an eye on it" are throwaway words used by the medical establishment, which carry the weight of indifference and fatigue. The medical establishment is exhausted and burnt out, they can offer treatment plans, but not hope.
I say this as someone who recently celebrated my 11-year cancerversary. I am one of the lucky ones, having survived both cancer and chemo. It is noteworthy that chemo causes as much fear as cancer.
Perry, so true. It’s not like cancer is the sniffles. But the language of care doesn’t encompass both. It’s not the fault of doctors. There are big gaps in their training, and yes, they’re not allowed to spend adequate time with patients. Congratulations on your cancerversary! Chemo is brutal. So glad you’re doing well.
Thank you, Manuela, for your generous words. I am learning that the idea that grief is something that you can get over is a brutal misconception. I hope that attitudes will change.🙏
Mary, thanks for another exquisite piece of writing. So immersive with all those wry details. I've made the same inadvertent mistake with Apple photos turning Live for a second or two. Weird. And the feeling of Left Behind. Although I met Mike when he was seven years into Parkinsons, I had another 22 years to get used to the idea of his departure. It still seemed an abrupt rupture when it finally happened, and I felt like the kid in the Home Alone movie. Still do a bit. Thanks for capturing all of these feelings and details in finely wrought, poetic words.
Mary, you are so kind. Those Live Photos are so disconcerting. You’ve written so capably and well about your relationship with Mike during his illness and after his death. I feel every minute of those long, exhausting days and years. And even with all of that time, I don’t think anyone can ever be prepared for that loss.
What I have witnessed during the time I’ve known you is a real expansion of creativity and insight. I don’t think that it’s the loss in itself that has changed you, but the way you’ve incorporated the fact of it into your own life and intellect to bring about wisdom. It’s alchemy of the best kind.
Thank you for sharing your lovely thoughts. Be well, and take care. (I know you always do.)😊
Love you, Jeannie! I’m having a lovely time here at the lake. Beautiful fall colors, gorgeous sunsets, and a sweet little tiny-house cabin. I think I might have a fire. Won’t be the same, but it’s a good night for it. Miss you!🙏💕❤️
Susan, it’s hard to arrive at the stage in life when we begin to witness loss all around us. But all we can do is to cherish the moments. I wish I had done more of that. I do have the opportunity, through my writing, to relive those good moments. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I’m glad this piece touched you.
It’s been ten years for me. Still can’t…. Many of the things you say. Thanks. Sharing somehow helps. I too have a wonderful, strong supportive daughter. All the best
My deepest condolences on your loss, Danny. I’m so glad to hear that you’re blessed with a wonderful daughter. Thank you for sharing. My best to you as well.
Mary, deepest thanks… this is an especially powerful and illuminating post about your grief for a lost spouse, so many searing shards of memory. Losing one’s husband is one of the greatest fears for older women, like me, who have been married for decades. I’ll be posting soon on this topic (“How will I cope if I lose my spouse/partner”) and referring to this essay.
Thank you so much for your kind words, Debbie. It’s been hard, some moments more so than others. I wish I’d felt prepared. You’re doing a wonderful service by opening up the conversation on this topic, one that I know many of us were too afraid to discuss. I’m honored that you are sharing this, and hope my experience is helpful to others.🙏
just sent you a message via Substack - never know if those get through!
Debbie,
I agree with you. This post is powerful and illuminating. Your words, "so many shards of memory" are perfect. I think about being the one left behind more and more, so I hear you. I look forward to reading your article about this topic when you write it. Talking about grief is so important.
Nancy, I’m glad this post touched you. Debbie has introduced an important topic. I’m looking forward to working together. You’re right, grief is so seldom discussed. This needs to change.
So beautiful, Mary. He would be so proud of you. 🩷
Thank you, Maureen.🙏
Big hugs, Mary. To you, your son and daughter, and Mini, love and best wishes. Love may grow around our grief, but these occasions pierce through and take us right back to the heart of things, the eye of the grief storm. Pulling up my own chair (with a cocktail) to sit alongside you.
Victoria, thank you! Big hugs to you too, and I’m raising my espresso martini.🍸(Figuratively speaking, because it’s ten a.m. where I live.)🙏❤️💕
🤣 Yup it's only 4pm, but I figure in our virtual world we can have virtual cocktails all day. Maybe brunch Mimosas. I hope Mini is doing ok. Over here, Mum and I are recovering from COVID +pneumonia & Strep throat...so taking it easy and counting our blessing and LOVING boring moments after all the stress these last weeks. Me-thinks I'll get the wine out later ;-)
Oof, what a trifecta of illness! So glad to hear that you’re recovering. Mini Cooper is hanging in there. I had to leave her at home for a couple of days, because I decided to take a brief trip to stay in a cabin by a lake. My daughter stops by to feed and visit with her, though. Hard to leave her alone, but the drive would have been stressful. Can’t have mimosas but I certainly have some stories to tell. That will be next week, if I make it home with car, body, and bank account
. . . unscathed. (Told you it was a story!) What’s life without adventure, right? I’m not injured, just unhinged. Thank goodness for telemedicine - figuratively, again - with my daughter. I hit the jackpot with her. ❤️💕Much love, and cheers!
Holy Cannoli, Mary! I am both intrigued and concerned for you! Sending more love, hinges and hugs to hold you altogether! much love.xo
Oh, things will be fine. Really. I made it here before dark, didn’t murder Siri or hit a deer or God forbid, a moose. I have heat and warm clothes and a roof over my head. I’ll live to tell the tale. That’s what matters.
Oh PHEW! There will be some very rich tales to tell!! I'm relieved to hear you're ok. Take care dear one xoxo
Beautiful writing from the gret, as always. You make us feel it all, feel like we’re right there with you. Wish I could have been one of those friends by your side, ready with hugs or a glass of wine. Oncology blue made me laugh, the patio chairs too. You drop humor so well… between the tears in my eyes I can laugh.
Thank you for this raw, vulnerable piece, Mary. 💕And congrats on such a huge following… so well deserved! Love you’re going to try new things… teach me something new too! 😁😉And bless Mesa for her generosity… bless you for having the free library! You both are amazing and I’m honored to call you both dear friends! Love you! 🥰💕🫶
Should have been from the ❤️…but I think everyone knows that about you, dear Mary!
Joan, I’m blushing. You are so kind. Blessings.🙏❤️
Joan, I seem to be misplacing my responses today! There’s one further down the thread. So sorry! I need to get some sleep.😴
Beautiful essay, I love how you structured it, weaving past and present.
Tina, thank you so much for your kind words.🙏
As always Mary, your storytelling is beautiful. I often feel like I’m right beside you as you take us through. I always want to hug you at the end. I can see and feel it all. Grief really is a clever thief and also, sometimes has a way of delivering us to one another at the same time.
So much love to you. 🩵🩵🩵
Mesa, you’re so very kind. I love your observation that grief is not just a thief, but that it can sometimes deliver us to each other at the same time. Love to you in return!💕🫶❤️
You’ve captured year 2 of grief so well: the unexpected raw grief seeing the unplanned short video; the overwhelmingness of the things that need to be done like decks and the energy just.isn’t.there; the difficulty of reaching out to friends because death has changed you and you’re still discovering how it has and continues to.
I’m in the beginning of year 6. It’s a journey and we move forward, holding each other gently and with love. Thank you for this offering to widows and widowers, this gift from your heart to theirs. 💖💜💞💜💖
Elmdea, so sorry I messed up! My reply to your comment is further down the thread. I’m a bit tired today.
Mary - no problem. Grief does that to us. Gentle hugs 🤗💞
Joan, you are so sweet! Oncology blue, couldn’t resist. Breast Health is all shades of pink, from pale blush to mauve to raspberry. It fascinates me. My designer daughter tells me that there is an entire field in the profession, devoted exclusively to medical facilities and the psychological benefits of color and other aspects of healing. There’s a hospice specialty as well.
I feel so very blessed to have found a community on Substack. Definitely a dream come true. I thank the stars that you were there from the beginning. I don’t know if I could have kept going without you. I love every one of my subscribers. Despite the sadness, there are so many reasons to laugh. Big hugs. ❤️💕🫶🥰
So interesting about the medical colors…rare diseases/EDS which my grandgirl has, is purple. You’ve done an amazing job getting thru this second year… Thanks for sharing his birthday with us💕💔 I feel the same about you and Substack… why I could tell you all about my COPD before anyone else. A community of caring and loving people…I’d say we’ve found ours! 💕🫶
Joan, I believe that we have.❤️
Hi Mary. Watch and wait. Keep an eye on it. That's how I lived for three years. For as much as I know about the nature of grief and grieving, I don't know where it begins. I'm pretty sure it never ends though. It doesn't always feel so overwhelming, not because it gets easier or time has stretched the pain thinner, but our capacity grows, and our brain and body recover a sense of equilibrium more readily. I accept that without grief for Steven, I cannot remember the love, so I feel both, usually at the same time. I feel sad going into another winter alone, but writing gives me purpose. Thank you for sharing your beautiful writing with us. I always look forward to your next post. XO 🥰❤️
Amy, what wise comments. “Our brain and body recover a sense of equilibrium more readily.” “I accept that without grief for Steven, I cannot remember the love, so I feel both, usually at the same time.” I’m finding this to be true. And writing definitely gives me purpose. Where would I be without Writer, interrupted? I’d still be stuck in one of those interruptions. I’m glad that this post resonated with you. I did get caught up in the writing. Will be back soon to catch up on your posts. Big hugs.🥰💕🫶
Mary, your writing always makes me cry as being left alone is my scariest worry. Like you, me & my husband of 50 years do everything together but I really wouldn’t know where to start alone. I think of you often & , although I’m sure, the feeling that part of you is missing never goes away, as my mother told me, you grow to accept it. I wonder…🩵
Wendy, fifty years is a true gift. And yes, the years do bring fear, along with denial and magical thinking. I believe that we both went through the same process of believing that if we didn’t acknowledge the reality of death, it would buy us time. How wrong that was! But none of can anticipate the challenges ahead. I think we need to take things as they come, and believe that we’ll incorporate the sorrow along with the joy. Blessings.🙏💕
"We'll keep an eye on it" are throwaway words used by the medical establishment, which carry the weight of indifference and fatigue. The medical establishment is exhausted and burnt out, they can offer treatment plans, but not hope.
I say this as someone who recently celebrated my 11-year cancerversary. I am one of the lucky ones, having survived both cancer and chemo. It is noteworthy that chemo causes as much fear as cancer.
Perry, so true. It’s not like cancer is the sniffles. But the language of care doesn’t encompass both. It’s not the fault of doctors. There are big gaps in their training, and yes, they’re not allowed to spend adequate time with patients. Congratulations on your cancerversary! Chemo is brutal. So glad you’re doing well.
Thank you, Mary.
Not sure it will ever end, but this post is a treasure and a pleasure to read. Your writing is exquisite and the honest refreshing.
I am sorry for your loss! We don’t get over it. We learn to live it.
Thank you, Manuela, for your generous words. I am learning that the idea that grief is something that you can get over is a brutal misconception. I hope that attitudes will change.🙏
Mary, thanks for another exquisite piece of writing. So immersive with all those wry details. I've made the same inadvertent mistake with Apple photos turning Live for a second or two. Weird. And the feeling of Left Behind. Although I met Mike when he was seven years into Parkinsons, I had another 22 years to get used to the idea of his departure. It still seemed an abrupt rupture when it finally happened, and I felt like the kid in the Home Alone movie. Still do a bit. Thanks for capturing all of these feelings and details in finely wrought, poetic words.
Mary, you are so kind. Those Live Photos are so disconcerting. You’ve written so capably and well about your relationship with Mike during his illness and after his death. I feel every minute of those long, exhausting days and years. And even with all of that time, I don’t think anyone can ever be prepared for that loss.
What I have witnessed during the time I’ve known you is a real expansion of creativity and insight. I don’t think that it’s the loss in itself that has changed you, but the way you’ve incorporated the fact of it into your own life and intellect to bring about wisdom. It’s alchemy of the best kind.
Thank you for sharing your lovely thoughts. Be well, and take care. (I know you always do.)😊
Thank you for another beautiful read. I love you, and look forward to sitting with you next summer in Minnesota or this winter in Texas!
Love you, Jeannie! I’m having a lovely time here at the lake. Beautiful fall colors, gorgeous sunsets, and a sweet little tiny-house cabin. I think I might have a fire. Won’t be the same, but it’s a good night for it. Miss you!🙏💕❤️
Glad you got away for a respite. I vote fire!
🔥