Dear Audrey
Excerpted in the New York TimesI started this blog a couple of weeks after learning of my husband's sudden death at the age of 33.
The primary goal was to get me through each moment, hour, and day, but I also hoped that someday my daughter and I would read through it and learn something together—about my dear husband, her father, and about death, and about life.
I'm grateful that it's also served as a comfort for many others going through loss around the world, many of whom have become dear friends.
That Was Beautiful
"She's kept her love for him as alive as the summer they first met. In order to do this, she's turned life away." "To paint a leaf, you have to sacrifice the whole landscape. It might seem like you're limiting yourself at first, but after a while you...
Nostalgia
This day is dreadfully painful, but it only occurs to me tonight that this was the day of your wake. The day I saw your body and the last time I saw your face. The evening I had dreaded for a week. The collapse of my body as the funeral director...
Two
How do you measure two years?Two years of saying goodbye.Of wanting to wake up from a bad dream.Of hovering somewhere just outside of my physical body- watching all this.Two years. A few changed light bulbs. A couple of bottles of shampoo. Lots of...
And Yet
Today's been pretty miserable which seems to be typical of the "day before." Audrey seemed especially aware of the anniversary. She sat looking at albums by herself while I cleaned the kitchen this morning. I came out and stood behind her just in...
July 4
I sit outside in the dark on my balcony, listening to the distant boom of the Macy's Fireworks over the Hudson. I have a nice view straight down River Road. The air is furnace-like but I don't sweat. I leave the AC on while I'm out here with the...
Evening
Evening.I open up a hard drive to look through photographs from the past two years. I am hoping to find beauty and proof that I've survived. Instead I wind up playing some of the music you left behind- mp3s I copied from your computer/studio. What a...
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