A friend told us to gather near a small gray door in the back of the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium before 7 a.m. After a guard turned the lock, we filed into an empty auditorium and sat
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I took my wedding ring off on the first anniversary of my husband Vic’s death. The next morning, I put it back on. Vic dead. Me alive. Definitely still married. I removed the ring a few months
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On Sunday afternoon, I went to the Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts to hear Tish Pearlman, the Poet Laureate of Tompkins County, read her work. Tish interviewed me for her award winning radio show Out of Bounds
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Grandpa Ware smelled like cinnamon toast, steaming cow pies, and brown soap. His wrinkled cheeks were soft against my face if he had shaved or scratchy when he hadn’t. He covered his wispy white hair and sun
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“Who do you want to see more than anyone?” my husband Vic asked in an excited voice. It was unusual for him to call from his office in the middle of a work day. “I don’t know,”
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I took excellent care of my husband Vic when he was ill, but I sometimes falter at self-care now that I’m on my own. I felt dizzy and tired this week after driving too many hours, drinking
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It was easy to feel gratitude for our close marriage when my husband Vic was alive. Whether we were in a chemotherapy treatment room, in the stem cell transplant unit, or struggling with illness at home, we
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I left home at 4 a.m. to catch a bus to the Forward on Climate Rally in Washington, DC. Six chartered buses left Ithaca, NY soon after 5 a.m on Feb. 17, 2013, filled with people
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“There has to be more to life than this dark gloom,” I wrote. I was sinking under the weight of my widowed life with no sweet husband to listen to my smallest fears, to care if my
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I lie next to my 84 year old mother, my strong sun-browned body facing her frail white one. She takes up so little space now. When I am with her, I am usually the mother, holding and
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