Posts Tagged ‘grief

Gary has his say

Posted on Tuesday, August 31, 2010 in the Walla Walla Union-Bulletin HOME PLACE – Thank you for all of your kindness and support SHEILA HAGAR I’ve recently written a couple of columns that have produced a veritable flood of reader responses. Which, I have to admit, is immensely gratifying. For the most part. Not always, [...]

My newspaper job, Universal pain, home place home work

Apparently I’ve been granted an extension

that I didn’t ask for. This season of grief in my life is just not ending. It started in 2004 and is about ready to do me in. I mean it. Jim died this week, at age 64 chronologically, but forever an adolescent. Stuck developmentally, for the most part, and in an elfin body. Jim [...]

From the life I used to have

Rated S for sad

From Tuesday’s Home Place column: On the day you read this, I’ll be getting ready. Ready to walk through the one-year anniversary of my husband David’s death. His unexpected, unprepared-for death. I started chronicling just days after David left me on Jan. 27. My first blog entry, written at 86 hours post-death, was titled “That [...]

Just plain grief

I think she may own some words

Maybe some of you remember something I wrote here not long after the dead guy became the dead guy — that when David and I used to argue (oh, I long for a good argument), he told me it was impossible for him to win because I “own all the words.” I don’t, but dang [...]

Just plain grief

“Click”

Here I am, sitting at my desk, sending up a thank you to the dead guy. Why, you ask, scrunching your nose slightly — “Why does she call him that?” I sometimes say that as a way of acknowledging I keep David in the loop, but he is, after all, the dead guy. Anyway…a frantic [...]

home place home work

That phrase, “I’m no longer someone’s wife,” is not rolling off the tongue

I have been a widow and single mother for 86 hours and I pretty much hate it. My husband, David, died at home…halfway out of the bathroom and into the hall…on Tuesday, from a massive heart attack. One of the least noble and romantic places to die, if anyone is charting such things. He was [...]

too good to be true