Oh, 2016, I hate you.
I normally reserve such hateful language for.. well… never. But I think it’s safe to say I’m okay with this one.
I desperately need you to end.
But I’m simultaneously scared to see you go. I need to keep the good memories; just help force the horrific ones to die.
This was originally posted on the Huffington Post on December 5, 2016.
I’m a young widow.
The word stinks, but it’s honestly the best way to simply describe my situation.
Everything is so confusing now. My brain can’t comprehend the tense I’m living in.
He was…
but I am..
even though I wish I wasn’t.
During my recent pilgrimage to India to visit a town full of thousands of widows, I sported a homemade sweatshirt with the words “Still His” displayed across my chest.
