Saturday, October 8, 2011


The beach air seeps into my skin. The clouds melt into my eyes. The breeze wisps past my heart.

I sit here on a deck by the ocean. I sit here an reflect. I sit here and absorb.

I'm here in Port Aransas for an AWP getaway. I've fallen ill. Not a cold, but something I fear to test, as I fear of how it could incapacitate me, how it could make me face life's bumps without him.

So I sit here on the porch, red wine to my right, eternal ocean to my left.

Not being with my fellow widows, at a time that I have put my heart, life and love into leaves me to my own devices.

So I sit here and say out loud, to myself, what is aching to leave my lungs. A realization I've long known but never put into words.

The fact. The utter truth...that you never know the sacredness of a smile or laugh until you can't hear or see the one you most love. Fear that your own will never return. A sacredness that decided to embrace me once more. Introduced me to a long, lost friend.

And the breeze passes by my cheek as I look into the now glittering lights of the hotels in the night's horizon.

And I smile.

And with his love enveloping me...I laugh.


  1. Taryn,
    I hope you are - will be well.
    thankyou so much for this post.
    I am almost at a year and had a few good days, tonight the crash.
    At another "couples" dinner, good friends and me. Alone.
    I was okay until I heard that "our" friends are about to do "our" annual fall/thanksgiving favourite thing. A trek to a pretty small town, for lunch, shopping, wineries.
    This is the thing that we did - every year for our anniversary. So I sat there during dinner listening to them tell me not about their tradition, but ours. Only now they are doing it and I am / we are not. Because there is no more we, just me.
    I drove home feeling sick with grief and managed to barely make it in the house until I fell apart sobbing.
    I want them to have fun.
    But - their joy reminds me of my sorrow and I don't want to feel that way.
    Do I just look for new friends?
    Sometimes it feels so good to be with people who knew my husband and at other times as they go home together, wave goodbye from the porch and i leave alone - i just feel so lonely for him.

    I know how sacred it is what I have lost, but how, how, how do I keep living without him?

  2. I think you have to try and at least live for him in the time passes you will find a way and a want to live for yourself...and you will smile.

    Friends will come and go...his love will never waiver. Lean on it in the darkest moments.

  3. Your post is somewhat of a mystery, so may I say I hope your health is not in jeopardy. To anon above, I am hitting 2nd year anniversary. For what it's worth, even though a feel a bit stronger at this point, I don't think I would accept invitations to "couples only" events, because I think it would set me up for failure. Maybe having lunch or going to a movie with the male/female half of the couple you are friends with would not carry the sting. As Taryn said, eventually things happen in their own time, and you will make new friends despite the fact that you're not looking. They turn up. My strategy is not to put myself in situations that I know will be too hard. I still don't go to movies at the theater, because it was our Sunday ritual. I have some friends who don't get it, and invite me every Sunday, and I've explained my reasons but they don't give up...which is good and bad. It's about knowing what you can and can't take and going with it. It's an ongoing process, sometimes I'm still hit by things I thought I could handle. Rough times, try to follow your gut. Blessings and peace.

  4. I agree, don't set your self up, even with friends, if you think it will backfire and bring you down. I hate being part of a group that is all coupled up, I usually don't stay long, as I can see that I don't fit in, even though that was not the intention of the gathering. I'd rather be home alone than trying to put on a happy face in a crowd, when all I'm doing is crying on the inside.

    Anon, yes their joy will remind you of your sorrow. That will just take time...I know that people told me that early on, but it is true. It is going on 2 years for me, and I still have those bad/sad days, but I am learning to see joy again too. There are triggers that bring me down, I am now aware what they are, and I try to avoid them as much as possible.

    New friends? That is an option, I have not gone there yet. I have lost so many of our couple friends, they just don't get that I am still here, needing their friendship more than ever. Their avoidance befuddles me, I guess they're afraid of cancer cooties. I am saddened by the loss of their friendship, and wonder if they were truly friends at all.

  5. I have a different take on the couples friends. I'm not even a year in to this solo journey. All our friends are married & we were part of a very special group of people - couples. There are times that it is incredibly difficult to be with them, to hear them talking of all the future plans we made together, of all the things we annually, etc.

    Yet, these people knew my husband, they know me, they knew the us, the we.

    These people are more than my friends. We were family; they are my family, my chosen family.

    The women of this couples group surround me, don't allow me to not answer the door, don't allow me to push them away, rather they give me the space needed- wait, quietly, patiently until I choose to come out, and they come at any point of the night to be in the same room with me so that I can sleep.

    These men watch over my home, mending the things needing done not waiting for nor making me ask for help; making sure all is cared for to the meticulous degree my husband kept things.

    They each have taken our sons under their wings, spending precious one/one, and "boys night out" time with them, teaching them the things my boys need to know to grow into good men, passing on to them their knowledge of my boys' father, his beliefs, his views on so many different things - time away from their own families.

    Is it hard sometimes to be solo with them - absolutely, but it would be so much worse to not have them in mine and my sons lives. When we go somewhere, I've just begun to notice, intentional or not, they create a circle around me, physically and emotional.

    New friends will be made over the years, we all have other, different friends outside of our group, it would become stagnant if we didn't, but as hard as the times are when I feel alone in the group, those times are few and if they knew, ever, that I felt that way-it would crush them. My husband is with and part of the group physically present or not,they don't begrudge me my sad, angry, nor happy moments, rather support me through them all, and I truly believe that working through my tough spots, with them, is going to be much worth it.