Have you ever wondered? 

I wonder if you

Remember all the times that 

We shared together. 


Shocking developments…

I blogged a while ago about a friend of mine whose husband was ill. He died yesterday on their seventh wedding anniversary. 

I was among one of the first people she called…As soon as I saw her number calling, I knew- but I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that just over seven years since I had lost my own boyfriend, that my best friend had now lost her husband. 

I should be able to help, say the right things that need to be said, give silence when t needs to be given – but I felt as helpless when she called as I had all along during his illness. I KNOW based on my own experience that there’s nothing that can be said and no way to know when is the right “time” to be silent or try to get her to take her mind off of that …. inconsolable, unfathomable, crushing grief that is so perversely gargantuan that even these words do not give it it’s due justice. It is just inconceivable that loss… and ever loss is different – my loss is still not her loss nor is it comparably to anyone else’s – so no one ever really ‘understands’. 

I did not had any children so I had the luxury of no dependents… I could just work come home go to bed and not get out til I ha to go to work again. But she has two children… too small to even fully conceive what ‘death’ is. The task of even having to explain to them that their father is dead is so… surreal. What does that phrase even mean ‘your father is dead?’. She has to pick a casket, a funeral plot, still be a mother – there are responsibilities… 

The hardest part about it all is that this is the easy part. Responsibilities keep you busy. It’s when you go home after all the ceremony is done- the funeral, the prayers… and you sit alone in the dark. The pressure of that surrounding quiet is so probably akin to if you are underwater and about to suffer a case of the bens. 

I struggled as it was hard to see people moving on with their life while I felt rooted to one spot – resentful of my inability to connect with people afterwards, jealous of others who got to live out a future I had once envisioned for myself and angry at God for carrying out an act that seemed so senseless, damaging and just wrong. 

I do not wish this for my friend. I hope the light and love of her children will encourage her to grow, I hope she can look back on her past willfully and feel a sense of joy for the contentment, I hope she will move past the grief and at some point be open to living a full life. 

However, I know we are a long way from finding the positive in this moment. But I will be there for her as much as I can be… letting her knows she’s not alone. 


Today makes it seven years ago since my boyfriend died. Time goes by but it doesn’t really make it “easier”. I always feel like “easier” is the wrong word. 

Some years I am sad… some years I am angry… some years I am numb… this year I feel like I’ve gone back to being more angry at the situation. 

Angry and resentful … because I see the rest of the world moving on and being happy and living lives without him and I feel that everyone has forgotten him – how kind he was, how generous he was, how funny he was… it’s like everyone else is mocking you with their happiness about life on the days like today… 

I suppose I’m resentful for feeling like life has just never truly moved on… it’s changed – drastically … but it hasn’t MOVED… 

I know he’s good wherever he is, I’ve never worried about that. He was too good to be taken anywhere but straight to wherever is the best place you can be after this life… But you cannot begin to imagine how the removal of one person from your life in such a way, can ultimately change everything you ever had planned/dreamed/ believed in. 

I don’t even feel like I know what to say this time around… seven… how did it even get to be seven years since my life stood still?