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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Six Months Without You

I wish I had words that could eloquently sum up how it feels to mark six months without my husband. I don’t. Just a video full of raw emotion. Please don’t judge my tears, my anger, my pain or my grief. And if you’re feeling a loss right alongside me, I extend my shaky hand to you and offer my deepest, heartfelt apology. This sucks. Man, I miss that man.

Changing Seasons.

My life is currently a walking contradiction. I love going to sleep because that’s when it’s when I can rest from the pain. Yet I hate waking up because it means I’m another day further from you.

However, the cool breeze that whipped around my cheeks when I walked Lola this morning signaled the seasons were changing. I’m ready. Kind of. This summer has been horrible.

And a few days ago, my birthday snuck up on me.

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