“When my firefighter husband was killed in the line of duty, I couldn’t bear the thought of bringing home his gear bag that used to sit on the floor of my bathroom near the tub. Seeing his gear bag typically meant that he was home momentarily between shifts, but seeing his bag and knowing he wasn’t coming home was a truth I didn’t want to face. My best friend agreed to keep Ryan's gear bag at her home. In a box separate from his gear bag are the clothing items, including his helmet, that were on him at the time of his accident. I remember being in her home one evening and I asked to ...
Convert your clip on earrings to post back
Hi friends! Do you ever look through all of that old jewelry your grandmother gave you and find some gorgeous earrings only to flip them over and see they’re clip-on’s? Or maybe you’re out thrifting or antiquing and a pair catches your eye and you think “Man, I would totally wear these if they weren’t clip-on’s”. I really have to give some props to the ladies who wore this kind of earring day in and day out! Today though, I prefer post back earrings. I feel like they stay on my ears better and they are just simply more comfortable. So here is the dilemma: There is an ...
What he didn’t say
I’ve read his suicide note twice. The first time was four years ago, a couple days after he died. Through the tears, I only felt anger. He had left me out. Mentions of other members of our family and friends found their way onto the keyboard. But no mention of me. The second time I read the note was this afternoon. Four years ago, I wondered if he left me out because he was so mad at me. I wondered if I even had the right to grieve given he didn’t mention my name. I wondered if he loved me so much that he couldn’t fathom the thought of ...
What’s Next
I’ve been staring at this screen for months…waiting for what I’m supposed to say next and wondering what I can say that will “make it all better”. Or what will make the reader on the other side of this page feel better. And now it’s Christmas. I don’t have anything. I don’t have an eloquent poem about a Christmas in heaven, nor do I have a “Dear John, Merry Christmas” letter to share. I just miss him. I miss hearing him say, “Love you”. I miss the way he hugged me. I miss the way he punched me in the arm as he walked by me. I miss his ...
