It’s Really Been 8 Months and 1 Day. 


8 Months and 1 day. 

Mitch and I would always joke about how we couldn’t remember life without each other. Like we had been together forever. Our minds may have blocked all things prior to our getting together. 

It’s strange though. I mean, the sensations are awkward for me. I remember every single thing, about him being here. I remember his laugh. I remember his voice. I remember how he would try to be all sexy, and fall off of the bed.  I remember everything. It is how my mind works. 

I am so lucky to have been blessed with the life, and love of Mitch Wood. 16.5 years of being loved like I was a queen. 16.5 years of being doted on, of always being right, of bliss. 

For the last 8 months, I have learned that there are people who you thought you could trust, who you absolutely cannot trust, and there are people who you think are something they are not. I have found that some of my favorite people are, obviously, my and Mitch’s families. (They are all my family, but, for clarification purposes, I’ll say Mitch’s fam). 

There have been times where my intuition was wrong. I was guided into the wrong direction, because I felt like it was right. I haven’t really had to rely much on intuition, or my “feelies” as I refer to them, in a very long time, because I didn’t have anyone trying to get close to me, intimately. My feelies are rusty. They’re getting better. I am reading people better and better every day. 

8 Months ago, I was absolutely terrified of living alone, as I had NEVER lived by myself, let alone caring for another human life! 

Now, I am doing it. I am paying the bills, I have savings. I pay for Meg to play sports. 

I. Am. Doing. It!

I even remember to feed the cat! 

As hard as the last 8 months has been, physically, emotionally, and mentally, I have learned so much! 

Some things are things I didn’t want to learn, ever, in all my life. (Hello, being a widow isn’t something I wanted to learn how to do!)  But other things, like learning that I can be independent. I am good at being independent. 

I have learned that, because I went to college, and then fought for a raise, so that I was being paid what I was worth, I can afford to pay ALL of my bills, save money, AND play. I never would have imagined that would have been possible. Not in a million years. 

Now, please, don’t get me wrong. I know that money doesn’t create happiness. But, paying the bills, without worry, relieves stress. 

That was one thing that we worried about more than anything. We always worried about it. We had enough to pay the bills, and started to figure out how to keep some extra, but, some new debt collector would pop up, and there it all went, again. That was the story of our lives. 

Now, I only have one after me, and they’re stupid. An old apartment complex I lived at had a horrible flea problem, prior to me having any animals, ANNNNND some water damages caused by the pipes in the apartment, and they are charging me $2000, for the carpet. I called multiple times about the fleas, and when I called about the water leaking from my lights, it took them 3 days to come out and fix it. I told them to send it to collections, because I’m not paying it. Crazy bastards. 

I learned that I can negotiate like none other! It took all night long, but I got a new car, and got the price down to what I wanted it to be. I also got he interest as low as I could get it, with my crappy credit. But, I learned I could do it! 

When I cry, now, it’s for less time than before. It’s at the memories of Mitch, that, first, make me laugh, then I cry, because he is gone. 

I look at pictures, and sometimes, they kill me. Other times, I laugh and retell the story behind the photos, inducing laughter from anyone who is around. 

Megan has even started saying things like “remember when daddy would do *insert goofy shit here*,” and start laughing. 

Within the last 8 months, Meg and I have had so much personal growths, and have had to deal with things we never wanted to deal with. 

We have cried. 

We have broken down, to where we had to pull off the side of the road, and hold each-other. 

We have been immensely sad, and heart-broken. 

We have learned. 

We have grown. 

We have found some semblance of happiness, in this post Mitch Wood world. 

We are moving, ever forward. 

One step at a time. 

One day at a time. 

One week.

One month. 

Each day, we put one foot in front of the other. But we never forget the life Mitch gave us. We never forget his huge heart, or his goofy faces. We never forget the pride he showed, any time Meg accomplished something she was working for, whether it was a math problem, or catching in softball. 

Keep moving, but never forget anything.

#OneFootInFrontOfTheOther

#MitchWood

#LoveAlways

The Things I Have Done, So Far, This Year. 


This year has been one hell of a ride, so far.

I’ve done so many things that I never expected I would ever do. 

I, unfortunately, became a widow, at the age of 34, in January. Most already know the details of that, and I won’t relive it, in this post. 

In February, I paid off all of our tax debt, which was absolutely insane. That amount of money was a pretty large chunk of change.  I set up autopay for my student loans. 

In February, I went to Liberty tax and filed our taxes. It was overwhelming. I had never filed taxes, without Mitch there. Never! 

In March, I bought a new car. A brand new car. I never thought I could get a brand new car. I figured I would be stuck with dud cars for the rest of my life. Also, in March, I officially hired JRen Fitness, to whip me into a healthier me. 

In April, I signed up for the Conquer the Gauntlet Lifetime pass. It has been so rewarding!  I’ve met so many people, because of this, who have become friends, some who I consider my race family. 

In May, I left work at 3pm, hopped in my car, with 2 girlfriends, and drove, all the way to Georgia. We got there at 5am, and decided to nap for an hour before racing time. I ran my first official CTG! It was amazing! At the end of May, I released some stress, in a way that I knew how. 

I had sex with someone who ISN’T Mitch. (Definitely, I never saw this in my 2017 plans!) 


In June, I drove to Dallas Texas, for a conquer the Gauntlet. I found out that I can drive, easily, for 8 hours, before my ass starts cramping. I took Meg to the JFK museum, and we left Mitch at a restaurant and in the grassy Knoll. 

In July, we didn’t do much celebrating for Independence Day, since it was my scheduled holiday. That was strange. 

Meg started volunteering for the race Merch tent. She was killing it, in sales. She is doing so much better speaking to “strangers” (customers, and it transferred over to her ordering her own food at restaurants, too!)

I’ve been to Tulsa, and Iowa, for races, as well. 

I went to Nebraska for a workout with some race friends. Just because it sounded like a good thing to do. (It WAS!) 

I never would have thought that I’d be in the place I am, right now. 

This year has been trying. I have definitely had my bad days. I have sat down, on the edge of my bed and cried, for hours, about things I can’t control. Once those tears are released, I feel like it is like letting my worries go. Letting them free into the universe. I can’t worry about the things I can’t control. It’s fruitless. It’s unnecessary stress, that I CAN refuse to have. 

I can be happy, without feelings of guilt. 

I can have fun, without guilt.

I can keep taking steps, forward, without guilt. 

I can be sad, and happy, at the same time. 

I can be myself, an individual. 

I can be a mom.

I can be a friend.

I can say things and do things that most people are too aftaid to do or say. And I don’t do it, for attention. I don’t need that kind of attention, ya know? I do it, so other women and men, who are experiencing the same feelings I have, never feel alone. 

POST-widowhood Happiness

I know that this blog is about me being a widow, but I hope that anyone who has lost a loved one, can get some sort of hope from my story. 

I NEED people to keep hope. Or faith, or whatever you want to call it. 

It’s important to me, that people who are devestated right now, know that happiness IS possible. 

You may not believe me, right now. Hell, I wouldn’t have believed me, either. 

But, I promise you, it is possible. 

It’s beautifully intertwined with sadness, and excitement, anger and love.

 The happiness that first comes, is one heavily dosed with guilt. You find yourself laughing, then you turn around, and start crying, because, you feel guilty about laughing, about feeling that feeling that makes you laugh. 

The happiness that comes after, is pure. It’s a new kind of happy. I don’t know if I can explain it well enough, but I will try. 

Happiness before the loss of someone who is such a huge, positive part of your life, is happiness. It is normal, happy, where you may take things for granted. It’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s just normal. The happiness now, post guilt laden happiness, is so much deeper. 

It’s a kind of happy that starts down in your belly, and moves up, and through the chest, to burst out, and just be. It’s one where you appreciate the things that make you happy. You don’t take for granted, anything, anymore. You know how quickly the happiness and good can go away. 

It’s a kind of happy that I wish everyone could feel, but, for me, it took a terrible, horrible, tragic loss, to open my eyes, my mind, and my heart. And I don’t wish this kind of loss on my worst enemy. 

I feel like putting that into words doesn’t do it justice. I can’t explain it, any better than that, but that’s just not enough. 

That’s the best I can give. 

Another thing I have noticed is that my desire to make people happy, is far above what it ever was, before. I can say “thank you.” I can say “I appreciate you.” I can say many things, but instead, I’ve been more likely to SHOW you, of late. A hug, a kind gesture, or a gift. Something that goes with the words. It’s not a form of “repayment” or “to create equality”. It’s because it’s what I WANT… no… it’s what I NEED to do, to be a happy human. I want everyone who positively impacts my life to know they have. Period. 

It’s about using actions, because they speak louder than words. 


#DontWorryBeHappy

#OneFootInFrontOfTheOther

Do Me A Favor


The next time you happen to come across a widow, of any age, engage. 

Ask them questions, but not about being a widow, or about their late husband or late wife. 

Ask them how their job is. Ask them about their gramdkids. Ask them about their desires in life. 

Ask them their drink of choice, and buy them a drink, even if it’s just an iced tea or a drink. Pepper. 

Tell them they are strong, because they are. As a widow myself, I know the strength it takes to take each step every day. I know the feeling of being judged, for things that only feel natural. 

I know the pain of wanting something more, but, being afraid of loss. 

I know the feeling of loss. I know the feeling of fear that I’ll lose my extra family, if I fuck up. (Even if it is mostly an irrational fear). 

I told my work fam that I was going to start dating. A woman, a coworker, who I love, very much tells me, every time I see her, “Tabbie, you know I think it’s too soon.” 

Love you, lady, but, I will be the judge of that. Kissy face emoji. 

I don’t take it bad that she tells me this. She cares about me. She worries about my heart, mind, and soul. 

She also knows that I am very strong-willed and would never do anything that I had ANY doubts about. I only go full force if I am 100% sure. 

I am 100% sure. 

I’m moving forward. 

I am taking each step as they come. 

I am terrified, but excitement is there, as well. 

I received the most amazing of messages, it had me crying my eyes out. And honestly, as I was screenshotting and cropping to hide the identity of the sender, I, obviously, read the messages again, and started crying… again. 


Amen! Life is NOT about the breathtaking moments. It’s about the moments that take your breath away. ❤️

Let your breath be stolen. And let it be stolen often. 

Cherish those moments. 

Love with your whole heart. It’s scary, but worth it. Holding back doesn’t allow for the full feelings to shine through. When you love wholeheartedly, you do things you would never do, in another case, or for another human. You go out of your way to make that person happy. 

I’m not fully vested in astrology, but, I do feel very in Line with my sign: Libra.

My sign says I bring balance. I believe that. I feel that is a true assessment of who I am as a human. I hate an imbalance in fairness, love, friendships, etc. 

I love to make people happy. 

I can’t help it. I don’t do too much, to make people happy, but I will be damned if I have a friend or loved one who is upset About anything that I have done. I will work to make it better. 

Anyway, I just wanted to share with y’all the amazing, heartfelt message I received. (Well, parts of it anyway). 

Goodnight, world. 

Not Like The Rest


I am not normal. 

I am not like you. 

I am not like my mother, father, or brother.

I am not like my best friend.

I am  not like your sister, cousin, aunt, or grandmother.

I am not like my many other widowed friends. 

I am me. 

I am one hundred percent, authentic, and wholly  me. 

And that is amazing!

I don’t try to be anything but better, each and every day. 

I don’t care what is “popular” or if everyone else is doing it. 

I don’t care if my decisions aren’t expected. 

I prefer the unexpected. 

I live for spontaneity! 

I never realized how planned everything was, in our lives, until all those plans came crashing down, scattering across this way and that. 

I was supposed to grow old, and make inappropriate comments at holiday dinners, with Mitch, in front of our grandchildren. It was PLANNED! 

Nothing like making so many plans for the future, only to have those plans snatched away. What way do you best avoid the dashed plans? Don’t make any. 

Don’t get me wrong. Set goals. Achieve goals. Make your plans. 

I’ll eventually make plans again, but right now? No. 

I am going to let fate, or destiny, or whatever guide me. I’m going to go with the flow. I’m going to be spontaneous, and live as happily as I can, for as long as I can.  

I am going to raise Megan to be a better human, each day of her life. I can’t promise it’ll work through the teen years, but I’m going to try. 

I love living. Sometimes I hate that I love life, because Mitch isn’t here, loving life with me. 

In January, I never would have guessed I would be admitting that I love living. 

I love watching Megan grow into the person she is. 

I love going to concerts.

I love going to Royals games. 

I love driving, hours away, to run in races, and have an amazing time with so many awesome people. 

I. Love. LIVING! 

Mitch’s early, unexpected, horrific death opened my eyes. I realized it was time to go to that concert! It was time to sign up for that lifetime pass! 

The. Time. Is. Now! Not tomorrow, next week, or next year. NOW!

There might not be a tomorrow, so I am going to love everyday that I have. I’m not planning for too far in the future. 

I read this quote, or heard it, many times before:

“When you live with one foot in the past, and one foot in the future, you piss on the present.”

Don’t piss on your present! No matter the trials you face, find the good! Be happy! You deserve it! 

I Won’t Stop Sharing. 

There are things about me that I share too much. 

Not everyone needs to know all of my business.

But I won’t stop sharing. It’s not that I think everyone WANTS to know all of my business. I just put it out there. It makes me feel better. 

I have withheld, from a great many people, friends and family. But, all will come out, eventually. When the timing is right, and when I decide. I have actually been told by a couple of men that they either A: wanted me to write about them in my blog, or B: “Please don’t write about me!” I laughed at the guy who asked me not to write about him, because that’s what I do. I’m not going to tell you his name, but the idiot sent me a picture of his crotch! 🙄 

Yes, I’m jumping into dating. No, I’m not looking for “Mr. Right”. I just want to hang out, and have a good time, with an adult who may not know my entire history. Someone that I can have fun with (not necessarily of the sexual nature, either!) and then be okay with seeing or not seeing again. 

I am on a dating app, and I see people I know. I start laughing, and have swiped some, just to make things awkward (hey there sales rep! 😜). Ha! 

Right now, I’m just trying to make the best of this. I have most of my ducks, lined nicely, and orderly, and my child is well cared for. I deserve to have fun, every now and then. 

I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings for going out with people. That’s not my intention. I’m not “over” Mitch, and I know I’ve said it before, so I may be a bit repetitive, but, I’ll never be OVER Mitchell. Never. He is the most important human to have ever walked into my life, and that doesn’t go away. He gave me the best thing, any man can ever give a woman, and that was unconditional love, loyalty, and compassion. And, he always let me win the arguments. 😜 

Mitch set this bar, and this bar is so high. So, very, very high. It would never be fair to compare any other man to Mitch. The other man would lose every time. But it’s okay to give chances. It’s okay to expect the important things, like kindness, acceptance, and sense of humor. 

Another reason I am not looking for “Mr. Right”, is because it wouldn’t be fair to him, or to me. (Or to Megan, for crying out loud!) 

In the event that I found Mr. Right, tomorrow, and he loved me, like Mitch loved me, and wanted to give me the world, I would tear him apart. I obviously wouldn’t do it, on purpose, but, it would happen. Holidays are approaching, and I feel my heart becoming heavier, dreading Megan’s 13th birthday, and our first thanksgiving and Christmas without him. How fair would it be to have a man so into me, be crushed by something so natural? I couldn’t live happily with myself, hurting someone, even though it’s a natural process. 

As for me, I know, the man who gets my heart, next (if I ever give it away again), will be one lucky bastard. And I don’t mean that in a conceited way, either. I mean that in the way that I already know I’ll love harder. I’ll be more kind, and compassionate. It’s a different kind of love, that I’ll have. I already know. I’ll be the one giving my everything. What happens if I give my everything to someone, and they break me? That would be hard. It would hurt. That wouldn’t be fair. 

It’s also not fair to ask someone to match my level of wisdom, when they’re not me. They’re not walking my path. This is my path, that’s been laid out for me, and I must walk it, run it, or drag myself through it. I can’t ask people to wear my shoes. I can only tell you what my path is like. That’s the best I can do, and all I ask is for you to listen, without judgement. 

So, as for me dating, again. It’s for fun, and that’s about all I can give.  One day, I’ll be able to give more. One day, when I’m able to give more, I hope I run into the “first first date in 17 years”, man. He was fun, and funny, and good. And he is kind to the people he meets. That’s cool, right? I’ve read his customer reviews online (business owner/operator). All of his business reviews are 5/5 stars and mention him by name. That’s impressive. 

I find myself sensoring more. I mean, to be completely honest, I’ve friend-zoned one of my guy friends, and have my one female that I talk to. These two humans know EVERYTHING about me. Everything. Ins and outs of EVERYTHING. Every tiny detail, that people shouldn’t know. I’m letting them “shrink” me. Haha! Not really, but the guy that’s been friend-zoned is my insight into the single male brain, and my girlfriend is the insight into my mind. 

These two people are the best! I’ve thought about starting a group chat with them, so I could see their responses to my questions right by each-other. But, these two friends have allowed me to be a little more sensored. “Tabbie, you shouldn’t share that. That’s too much.” “If a woman made that offer to me, I’d be all over it, unless I was all up in my feelings about her.” These things make me smile, and think twice before sharing certain things. 

I decided I needed a single, straight guy friend, to help my understanding of the male brain. I thought about it, and remembered how in tune with my guy friends I used to be. I was always  one of the guys, growing up. And I’m not complaining, but I lost that touch, during the nearly 17 years with Mitch. I didn’t give a f*ck. I knew what MITCH liked and wanted, and that’s all I cared about. Everyone else could’ve fallen off a cliff, with their genitals ablaze, and I wouldn’t have noticed. 

#LiveLifeFree #BeYourBestYou #OneFootInFrontOfTheOther

7 Months After…

On January 25th, 2017, the best thing that ever walked into my life, fell asleep, and never woke up. That was 7 months and 2 days ago. 

Many people tell me:

 “You are so strong!” 

“You’re an inspiration!”

 “You’re doing so well!” 

“I don’t know how you go on. I mean, I don’t think I could do it!”

My strength is something I absorb through all of my friends, family, and support system. I have the best group of people, out there, to encourage me in the things I want and need. 

I hope to inspire many, who are grieving. It’s NEVER easy! There is NEVER a day that goes by, where I don’t think of Mitch. He and Meg were my EVERYTHING. This kind of loss isn’t something anyone “gets over” or “moves on” from. This kind of loss is something you LEARN AND GROW with. 

I do well, again, because of my amazing support system. And I love every single one of you! 😘

You really don’t know how you can go on, until you are here, and HAVE to keep moving. It’s not something I wish anyone to even TRY imagining. It’s terrifying, and guy-wrenching, to say the least! But, moving forward is a MUST! Nothing great ever happens, living in the past. We must all live, in the now. One step at a time, even baby steps count. Leaps and bounds may set you back a bit, but you will learn. And, learning, my dear, is good. 
Inside my daily mind:

Every day, I wake up, I think “damn, it’s raining, or damn it’s sunny!” Reach across my empty bed, to a place that should hold my husband. I don’t cry, when I do this, anymore. Well, I don’t cry EVERY time. Some days, the sense of loss is heavier than others. And that is just fine! 

I get up, make my coffee, and try to relax into my day, drinking my cup of dark roast. I think about how Mitch would always complain that I kept buying dark roast, because he was a blonde roast kind of guy. I bought the kind I liked, and when he shopped, he ALSO bought the kind I liked. I did start buying both, to be fair. 

I jump in the shower (most days) and get ready to start my day fresh. While I am enjoying a hot, cleansing shower, I think about how Mitch used to get giant cups, or even pitchers, sometimes, and fill them up with ice and cold water, and dump it on me, from over the shower curtain. I would get so mad, and laugh, every single time! It never failed. 

I dry off, and start my moisturizing routine, and think about how Mitch would ALWAYS walk into the bedroom, as I started putting lotion on. He would walk in and be like “oh! You’re not dressed yet? *wink*! He would then either be very obvious that he was watching me, or try to pretend he was doing other things, and “bump into me” as he passed me. 

I get dressed, and get my lunch packed and think how proud he would be that I USUALLY take my lunch to work. Saves me so much money! 

As I leave for work, I always feel like I am forgetting something. Every time. This sensation of forgetting something, is because I would kiss Mitch, every morning, while he laid sleeping in bed. We never left without saying goodbye. It was our thing. So now, I don’t have that sleeping husband to kiss goodbye. 

I’ll be at work, and something funny, or great, or terrible will happen, and I remember how I would always call, or text Mitch throughout the day, and he would be a smart ass, and make me laugh. 

When I get off of work, I think about how I would call Mitch, and ask him what he was cooking for dinner. Ever single day, I would call him and ask. Then I would say “oh good! I’m starving!” Or “Okay, what do you want me to pick up?” And I remember that Tuesday night, January 24th, when he told me he was craving the turkeylicious chili from Eat fit go. His last dinner. His choice. 

When I get home, and chat with Meg about her day, I think about how she has been here for however long she is there (depends on my call schedule) alone. I think about how this wouldn’t be a thing if Mitch were here. I think about how, before, she would tell me “Ugh! Daddy already ASKED me these questions!” 💙

When Megan tucks me into bed at night, she kisses me goodnight, then goes to her bedroom. This was the routine before her daddy died. She would tuck me in, and kiss me goodnight, then she would go to bed, and daddy would tuck HER in, kiss her goodnight. After tucking her in, he would come into our room, kiss me goodnight, and attempt frisky business, every night. Then, we would either get frisky, or I’d go to sleep and he would go watch sports or the news or the history channel. He’d come to bed at 11 or so, and go to sleep, and our routine would start all over again, when we woke up. 

These are, obviously, not the only things that affect me, but these are the regular routine things that get me, more often. 

Friday, before we left for Tulsa, Meg was looking for clothes to pack. As she was digging through her closet, she found this:


Those are her tiny handprints. This was a Father’s Day gift from her, quite a few years ago. 

She started bawling. 

It’s little reminders like these, that jump out, when they’re least expected, and tear us apart. 

Honestly, though, I would RATHER have these little reminders that tear us to shreds, than no reminders at all. I think no reminders would be so much harder to handle. 

Megan:

Megan, as a new middle-schooler, is now a part of a “grief group”. There are 3 or 4 other kids who have suffered significant loss, as well, and the social worker is working in getting them together, on a regular basis, to connect on a deeper level. I am SO happy about this! I am so glad she has an outlet, now, since she didn’t even want to try therapy. (She got that from her dad, no joke! He didn’t believe in therapy or psychologists!)

Megan and I:

So, as we grieve, we take each step, one at a time. We remember. We talk about him. We still love him. We will NEVER “get over it!”, and we are okay with that. We will never “move on!”, and we are okay with that, too. 

We are so unlucky in the way of losing Mitch, and so very lucky, in the way of our support system. 

We appreciate all of you! ❤️

Another Dream of Mitch! 


I dreamed of Mitch, Thursday night! I didn’t want to wake up. It was a very “normal” dream. 

He was here, at my apartment, like he had never been gone. He was laying in my favorite spot on the couch, and we were discussing whether or not, he should go get a job, since we were doing so well, without a second income. 

I told him no. I told him to stay home, take care of home stuff, and we would be okay. 

He told me I should probably change my tax status, back to married, instead of widowed, because he didn’t want us to get in trouble on outer taxes, ever again. 

It wasn’t a sexy dream. It was as if he really was here, discussing the crap that we discussed on a regular basis, before. Money, paying bills, Megan and school. Like he had never left. 

In my dream, though, I KNEW he had been gone all this time, yet, there he was, looking mighty alive.

 However, I never saw his face. 

What in the world could that mean?! I haven’t forgotten what he looks like. I haven’t forgotten his voice or anything. His voice is crystal clear in my dream. Except that one, where I couldn’t hear him at all. 

I miss him so much, and all I want is one of his big bear hugs, where he smothers me in his chest. I want to breathe in his scent, one more time. Breathe him deep into my soul. Every now and then, I’ll get a quick whiff of him, but as quickly as it comes, it’s gone. 

I RARELY dream about him, and when I do, it’s strange. Once, just his voice, like he was trying to find me, and nothing else. Once, just him, but I couldn’t hear him, even though he was talking to me, right in front of my face. And this latest dream, where I could see his waist, legs and feet. The details in his feet, like his veins, and bones, the way they looked when he sat with his feet propped on the arm of the couch, one foot crossed over the other. It’s all in there, in my brain. I remember every detail of him. 

He is my soulmate. There’s no question about that. We were put together so many times before we realized we were meant for each other. 

At age 17, I knew, the first time I kissed him, that he was my forever guy. Forever wasn’t as long as it was supposed to be. 

When I moved into his house 2 weeks after we started dating, everyone said we were nuts! Horrible idea! (In their defense, in a normal teenage situation, it would have been a horrible idea. I don’t recommend it to everyone. We KNEW!) When we got engaged a year and a half after we started dating, (2/2002), everyone said we were being ridiculous! No one realized how perfectly we were made for each other. That’s okay, though! We knew! When we got married, at age 20, not even old enough to LEGALLY drink our champagne, we were congratulated, yes, but also told we were crazy! “You’re too young! It’ll never last! Bad idea!” Again, in most cases, statistically, these are all true statements. In our case, they weren’t true. We. Fucking. KNEW! 

I was slightly annoyed, when we were younger, about people continually telling us we were doing things wrong. But, the older we got, the closer we grew together, and the more everyone else saw it. They KNEW! They KNOW now! 

I miss him. I miss my partner, my best friend, my biggest cheerleader, my lover, my husband. 

It hurts, but, I’m healing. I know that’s what this is. I can’t, and won’t be “broken” forever. Scarred? Sure, absolutely! 

Beautifully, and uniquely scarred. So unlike anyone else. 

I really hope there is an afterlife. I hope Mitch was welcomed by his momma, and family and friends that passed before him, and that he welcomed his grandma Sandy, with that big, bear hug, that I miss so much. 

May they be partying it up, in the happiest of afterlives. 

6 Months, 5 Days

On the Morning of the 6 month marker, of Mitchell’s death, I woke up, tears fell for an hour, as I scrolled through facebook’s “on this day”, showered and got ready for work. 

I made a post on Facebook, about how I was feeling, and a lot of what I miss about Mitch. 

I didn’t write a blog, or really talk to very many people. I didn’t tell Megan what the day was, until we were having dinner. 

I mostly kept to myself, and tried not to project my sadness onto anyone else. 

Everyone says it gets easier, as time passes by. 

Everyone grieves differently. 

It’s not easier. Each time I wake up, and Mitch isn’t here, it hurts just a little bit more. Each time some man, that I don’t know, hits on me, like I’m some “single chick” it kind of makes me angry. 

I have “ignored” so many people on messenger, “restricted” so many people on Facebook as well. 

On the 6 month-marker, a man tried to tell me he “wanted to know me”. I also posted about it on Facebook. He claimed he wanted to know me, yet, he didn’t take a second to scroll through my Facebook profile, and see that I just made a big, long, emotional post about how much I miss my deceased husband, and realize how inappropriate his messages were. I see through the typed words. 

I don’t feel bad about not wanted to know people. I don’t feel bad about blocking old acquaintances, or ignoring morons on Facebook. 

One thing I realized recently, is that I feel alone, a lot more than I realized. 

I asked a ton of people to go out with me, Friday night, and so many people just said no, or couldn’t go (kids, other plans, etc). It’s okay. I understand if you don’t want to or can’t go out with me. But here’s where the loneliness sets in. If Mitch was here, he would have gone with me, no questions. (it would have been his idea to go, even) I would not have gone to a concert alone, and we would have had an amazing time. Sure, I had fun. I was surrounded by people, and made “friends”. No. I was surrounded by people, and made more acquaintances. Sure it was fun, but my heart was still broken, and empty. As I danced and listened to the songs Mitch so often played for me, my heart was tearing open, shredding apart, again. 

It’s things like going out alone, or figuring out who will take Megan home from a ball game, if I get called into work, that make me feel alone. 

It’s little things that set me off into a crying mess. I feel like I cry MORE now, than I did in the beginning. Like it’s more REAL now, than it was. Maybe it’s because school is getting ready to start, or something? I don’t know. I don’t care why. It just IS. This is the way it is, now. 

I know, I have Megan, and that’s a MARVELOUS thing. I’m not alone when I’m with her, but I cannot take her everywhere with me. 

Maybe now, I’ve hit the point that everyone has warned me about. The point where everyone believes I am fine, and fall away.

 The scariest part about being a widow, is feeling alone. 

I miss him, so so so much. I miss his presence. I am so angry and sad that he is gone. This is a nightmare. He was such a beautiful soul. We needed him, more, here.

 The world needs more Mitches. 

Feelings. Emotions. Caring Too Much. Things I Won’t Apologize For, and Neither Should  You! 

Just recently, I was informed that I am “too emotional.” 
Interesting. 

That’s the first time I have EVER heard that. 

Like, EVER?!

I was told I was “running 100% on emotions”. 

Wtf?! Really?! 

I don’t get it, and I, honestly, don’t care, but it totally shocked me! 

SO, it made me think. What are things I will never apologize for? 

Caring. 

Being me.

Being honest. 

I lost a friend, and my feelings were hurt, but not “like that.” It hurt me to know that we aren’t actually friends. 

I will NEVER apologize for being upset about losing a friend. Never! I will never apologize if MY FEELINGS are hurt. That’s just not how it works. 

I was a bit upset when I realized a friendship wasn’t ACTUALLY a friendship, and decided to move on. I needed to stop hanging onto something that wasn’t real. 

Let. Go.

So here is something, to live by. 

Let negativity go. 

Let go of the things that aren’t real, in your life. 

Do not get involved with a one sided friendship, relationship, marriage, etc. It’s stupid to fight for someone  that doesn’t want to fight for you. 

Most of you know, I am about as real as it gets. I don’t play games, I don’t twist words, or judge. 

That said, if you are acting like a douche, I’m going to call you on it.  Don’t get all butt-hurt about it. Instead, look back on your actions and words. Reflect. 

Period. 

I don’t have time for fake friends. I only have time for real ones. I only have time for the people willing to make time for me. If my friend numbers dwindle, then it’s of no fault of my own. 

I work very hard to make time for family (and LORD knows, I have a TON of family!), and friends.  


I have my limits, though. 

It’s been nearly 6 months, since Mitch has passed away, and I’ve finally opened my eyes, and realize, just because I am a widow, doesn’t mean people are going to be genuine, with me. It doesn’t make people automatically nice to me. Just because I am raw, and real, doesn’t mean people will be the same with me. 

I am an honest, hard working, STRONG, intelligent, confident, and independent woman. 

I do NOT allow my emotions to run me. I don’t think I have ever allowed that, as far back as my teen years. Maybe once in a while around THAT time of the month, but no, not even close to an accurate assessment of me.  Silly goose. 

I am smarter than my hormones, 99.9% of the time. 

Also, if I am done trying, with someone, it doesn’t mean I hate them, or dislike them. It means I have given up. I still care, but, I can’t keep up the charades of a pretend friendship. It’s annoying as fuck. And, frankly, more time consuming, than I’m willing to work with. 

Again. I will never apologize for caring.

 I will never apologize for being honest. 

I will never apologize for being me. 

Detached from All of the People and Things.


It’s been a weird week. Actually, it’s been a weird couple of weeks. There have been a lot of tears and my chest has felt so empty. I think the tears come from the emptiness I’m feeling. There have been parts of days where I feel hollow. 
Remember when the numbness ebbed? This is like that. I haven’t felt he emptiness of Mitch’s absence. I have felt his absence, absolutely. But the feeling inside is something different. If I felt it, at the beginning, I probably wouldn’t be where I am right now. Just like the heartache that came weeks after, slowly working it’s way into existence, at a pace my mind could handle, the true feeling of something missing, is here. It’s prominent this week. It hurts like hell. 

But I will survive this. I will learn something from this. I will continue to take one step at a time. 

Remember how I decided to put my phone into do not disturb mode? 

I have continued to leave my phone on do not disturb, so I’m not always on it, or checking every noise. 

I am not posting a million things a day,  on social media.  

I’m doing more. I’m back in the gym, again. I’m hanging out with friends. I am attempting to learn more about friends, family, and even my coworkers. 

I hadn’t realized how detached I had become. I haven’t been listening. I haven’t asked questions. I haven’t been involved. 

I used to be the BEST listener! I could listen to my friends talk, all damn day, every day. 

Now, and for a while, I’ve been “checking out”, and not even realizing it. I could take the easy way out, and blame social media. I could blame it on losing Mitch so suddenly. But, I don’t believe that’s true. I think losing Mitch has made it more frequent. I’ve also noticed that the less time I spend on social media, the better I am at being involved with the people who are right in front of me. 

I have days where I don’t want to talk to anyone, at all. I have days where I have so much to say, much of which is completely inappropriate, and not everyone needs to hear. I have days where hearing certain people talk, makes me cringe. 

I’m not sure where it stems from, or why I have these days. I love my friends and family. This is why you’ll never know that your voice is driving me insane. It’s most likely not your fault.  Unless you’re a frequent liar. That drives me crazy… 

Today, my daughter played a softball game for just over 2 hours. Her team won the championship! I was present, actually paying attention to the whole game. I didn’t check Facebook, or instagram, or anything else. I sat, I chatted with family and other softball parents  that came, and I watched. 

It’s pretty sad how much effort I feel like it takes to get out of the social media stronghold. 

Yes, sure, I have some REAL friends on social media, and they like all my status updates and photos I upload. Really, though, real friends are the ones that make time for you. They’re the ones who are present. They don’t try to avoid you, when you may be at your worst, because they KNOW who you are, when you’re at your best, and believe you’re worth it. 

It’s the ones who aren’t real friends, who see you at your worst and hightail it. And, honestly, that’s something to be thankful for. Just say goodbye, remove them from your life, and take another step. 

One step… Then, another. 

Every single encounter we make, is meant to be. Be it terrible or wonderful, it was supposed to happen. Period. 

Last night, I had a few drinks with my cousin, and one of my very good friends, that I see on occasion. We ended up at my cousins, going through her interesting witchy things. And no. No spell casting or anything The-Craft-like. Just Tarot cards and a book with a description of people based on their month and day of birth. 

Mine was pretty legit. Not going to lie. 

There were a couple of dates that jumped out at me. One of the “beneficial” dates was actually Mitch’s birthday. 8/18. 

One of the “fatal attractions” or “challenging” dates was 1/25. Pretty crazy, huh? 

When we did the Tarot cards, (no making fun! Or judging!), I could LITERALLY (not figuratively) feel a slight tug, in the palm of my hand, as I passed over certain cards. No big deal, I read what the cards meant, and interpreted accordingly. 




When I watched as my friend closed her eyes, and waved her hand slowly over the cards, I saw 2 cards rise off of the table, ever so slightly,  and they wound up being the cards that she chose. 

I couldn’t believe that happened! 

Her cards were so much her, it was interesting. 

I’ll leave you with the following pictures, of Mitch’s description, based on birthdate. What do YOU think? 



Below, you’ll see my birthdate under “benificial”.  10/10 Also, you’ll notice our anniversary and his mother’s birthday under “soul mates” 5/24. 

***I apologize now, because I am too tired to go through and edit anything. I hope it’s not too messed up. 😜***