Father's Day

The day before Father's Day I took Mark out for breakfast. (Claire is at Camp Kesem this week.) The table next to us had a father in his 50s and his son in his 20s. They were enjoying breakfast together talking about football. Mark glanced at them several times and smiled in silent agreement with some of their football opinions. I ached for him. Mark is on the edge of adulthood and he never got to talk to his father man to man. Ken would have loved talking about football, fishing, life plans with our son.

Quote to focus on

"The life you have led doesn't need to be the only life you have." -- Anna Quindlen

Best ever

Soon we will start receiving the annual avalanche of Christmas cards, photos and letters. Many of them will include such statements as "wishing you the best Christmas ever!" or "Have the happiest Christmas" or "Make 2010 the best year ever!"

I hate these cards.

Yes, I know I will find joy this Christmas and in 2010. We will continue our Christmas traditions and mark the day together as a family. But it will not be the best Christmas ever. In 2010 Mark will graduate from high school and take his first steps to manhood and independence. Claire will continue to grow into a confident young woman. But it will not be the best year ever.

How can I have the best Christmas or best year ever without Ken? My best Christmases and best years are the ones I shared with Ken. I can't imagine how anything could be better.

Amazing!

I was feeling pretty blue this past weekend. It was the end of season party at the pool. These types of family events often leave me feeling empty.

Anyway, several days later I received a card from a friend at the party. The card said she just wanted to let me know that she thought I was an amazing woman. Amazing!

Amazing!

Who am I?

I know I can't be the person I was anymore. But I liked who I was. What if I don't like the person I must become?

The road not taken

It's been over two years now and I'm still trying to maintain that path I was on with Ken, but now walking it without Ken. I go out to lunch with the moms or sit with families at my kids' sports events and I maintain this illusion that nothing has changed. I'm still happily married, sharing my life with a partner who loves me, values me and supports me. But it's just an illusion. I go home and feel drained, empty and, yes, jealous.

If the path cannot be maintained without Ken, what then? What path should I be on? Where is the map?

A fact

Everybody told me that my loss and grief would make me stronger. But if I didn't have the loss and grief, I wouldn't need to be stronger.