When the Color Starts to Return

It took a while.

And things aren’t perfect.

But the color is starting to return to my life.

The sadness still lives there in my heart, my world, but as I’ve been told, grief doesn’t ever disappear. You don’t get “over it”; you simply get through it – one day at a time. You learn to live with it.

But the good thing is I can start to feel good things again.

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My American Quilt

“Mom, can I have fries with my shawarma?”

My American experience is unique. Born in Houston, my parents moved me to the Middle East when I was four years old. My dad’s job transferred him. The move changed our lives. It wasn’t just the food we ate, the roads we traveled or even the fact my mom could no longer drive those roads because women weren’t allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia. That move opened my eyes to opportunities. My world literally became bigger.

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International Widows Day 2017

It’s difficult to believe that nearly one year ago I embarked upon a remarkable journey with my good friend: we planned a trip to India’s City of Widows in only a few weeks.

It’s only fitting to take a look back at that journey today, June 23rd, which has been declared “International Widows Day” by the United Nations.

XO

Original video posted on HuffPost: Samosas, Soy Milk & Sadness

 

One Year Out.

I desperately wish I could go back in time.

To the days when we texted stupid things throughout the day. To the days when I yelled at you for staying in the gym too long. To the days when you, me and Lola spent all day inside on a Saturday eating pizza for all our meals because we were too lazy to go to the grocery store.

I’ll even take most April 16, 2016. It started off simply, sweetly and normally enough. Lazy morning in bed, pancake breakfast at the clubhouse and then an afternoon at the movies. All while in sweats and a messy bun because that’s when you swore I looked most beautiful.

I’m starting to see that time doesn’t heal all wounds, but I read somewhere that it does “give you the tools to deal with all of them.”

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We Miss You.

A year ago today, my earthly angel became my heavenly angel.

Rasheed, we all miss you more than most can comprehend.

Until I hold you in my arms again.

Forever Yours, KW

Rasheed Amin Wiggins
March 24, 1977 – April 16, 2016

A Case of the Sundays

Sometimes it hits you hard & fast.

You get a glimpse of your old self– your old smile, your old worries, your old life.

You remember what it was like to look forward to him returning from work; him bringing you flowers; him loving you — live & in person.

The pictures & the memories help, but sometimes, sometimes you just want your husband to hold you. It may seem like torture, but I posted this one on my fridge because it reminds me of how happy I once was, and forces me to try to live and smile because that’s all he ever wanted me to do.

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XO

#YoungWidow #MissingHim #griefandloss #StillHis #WidowStrong #GriefSucks #loveofmylife #memoriesforlife

HOME

It’s where you feel safe, warm and happy. It’s where your loved ones come to visit, and you lounge in your pj’s all day, eating food that makes you smile from your gut while sharing laughs with those who know you the best. It’s where you snuggle on the couch with your special one and enjoy bad tv and good blankets.

Last month I bought our first one.

But you weren’t there to sign on the other dotted line.

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Even in death, I’m still his girl.

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.

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