mother

No Regrets!

May 18, 2017
the road to hell

Don’t I wish? Good intentions may not lead to hell, but they can lead to a life of regrets—if only and what if. With age, I have acquired enough experience to know that I am happiest when I seek to live life without regrets, without all the “should haves”—all the times I procrastinated until it was too late—pricking my conscience. My cousin in Alabama taught …

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Another Easter, Another Sinkhole

April 13, 2017
Easter lily

Pride goeth before a fall. I did not anticipate pre-Easter anxiety. I thought the weekend was all planned. I presumed too much—about myself and about my plans. During two years of blogging about grief and my snail-pace journey to reclaim joy, I have written repeatedly about those sinkholes called holidays, birthdays and anniversaries. They are tough markers for all who have lost loved ones. Widows, …

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Time Out for Sabbath

October 27, 2016
Sunday morning

I am tightly wound—more so than ever since I became a widow—and occasionally I feel as though my spring has sprung. My body is talking to me. I simply have to stop and shut down. Sunday morning was one of those days. After a restless night, I overslept. If I hurried, I could gulp down one cup of coffee before dressing and dashing off to …

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Mothers and Daughters

August 4, 2016
Mirror, mirror on the wall

After my husband died, I worried about my future. I had been robbed of the most significant person in my life. And every holiday, every major life event where Lev was absent was a new robbery, new bereavement. The losses kept coming, and our family was not prepared. Nobody warned us that death was only the first loss. When I did not fall apart immediately …

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How Do You Find Purpose in Life?

June 9, 2016
Girl Scout troop

When Lev died, I did not have a clue how to “do” widowhood. Books and advice from others were of little help. I looked at other widows in search of role models. Those who had built purposeful, fulfilling new lives encouraged me. If they could do it, so could I. Eventually, I found books that also inspired me—usually memoirs of grief, which told me that …

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Baptists and Bourbon

December 10, 2015
eggnog

We moved to Texarkana from New Orleans in March 1947, and that first Christmas Eve my parents gave a little party for their new friends, serving eggnog in punch cups. In the rush to get Santa out for me afterwards (I was six), Mama did not take time to wash the dishes. Housing was scarce after World War II; and we were renting a turn-of-the-century, …

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Remembering My Lois and Eunice

May 21, 2015

When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also. 2 Timothy 1:5 My grandmother—“Mamaw”—died on Mother’s Day 1970. I had taken the babies to visit Mama and Daddy in Texarkana. We were at church when the call came. A family friend stepped forward …

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