Before the Sun Sets


I have so much life to live yet. There’s so much I want to accomplish. After Mom and Maddie died, there was a long time in which I just couldn’t picture the road in front of me. I always used to have goals in my mind that I wanted to work toward when I could make the time. When you lose people in your life it takes so much of the wind out of your sail. You feel like you’re on a row boat in the middle of an angry ocean, with waves all around you and the dark waters tossing you around like a weightless doll. You just hold on and pray that you stay afloat.
I no longer want to just float and I think that’s a good sign that I’m healing. I want to swim…I want to swim against any current that may be trying to slow me down. I don’t want to wait until I can “make the time”. Life will never happen that way…it will just pass by.
I’m still not there yet – where I want to be emotionally. I still have days that are hard, but not too many and they are not nearly as hard.
About a week and a half ago we had to have my mom’s dog euthanized. It was time. She was old and tired and her health was starting to fail. Those who know me well know that I had no emotional attachments to this dog. I didn’t want her at all, but when my mom was sick she “bequeathed” the dog to me and so for the last two plus years we’ve had a third small dog in the house. I know it may sound cruel but I was actually relieved that it was time for her to go. But now with her gone, some wounds have been re-opened and I find myself missing my mom even more. Such is the way grief works. It’s a process. Loss is a process. You never know when grief will rear its head up and strike. You could have several weeks of feeling pretty much back to “normal” and it will strike out from nowhere and you’ll wonder what is wrong with you…why you cry a lot again, why you can’t sleep, why you feel no energy…
You’ll be okay…more than okay. Ride these waves through. Be patient with yourself and be gentle to yourself. And then when the pain subsides again and your energy returns – swim against the currents because that’s where you’ll find your joy and your contentment. That’s what I plan to do. I have way too much life ahead and joy to find before the sun sets for me.

Ciao Amici!! ❤️


It just is…

Always on the outside looking in
Torn apart into fragments of nothingness
Empty but too full
dead but still breathing
Leaves rustle in the wind
and confirm the depths of
raw emotion that screams
because nobody sees the magnitude of what is
Nobody sees and therefore
nobody can care
You feel it alone and you live it alone…
Always on the outside looking in.


…and life moves forward at an amazing pace! It’s been several weeks since I’ve posted and that has everything to do with changes. Changes for the better. My “post-loss” depression has lifted for the most part and I’m feeling more and more like myself.  Just a stronger version. Of course I have moments of missing Mom and Maddie but I am pretty sure that will always be.  I’m looking forward into what I hope my future looks like and I’m excited about it.  I’m making plans and taking steps to have them come to fruition.  If all goes as planned I will retire in five years – August 1, 2022.  I am so excited about what I have planned for myself and I’m sorry that I can’t share it just yet but I will soon 😊  I’m really trying to allow God to guide this process – but I’ll admit it’s hard for me to take off my “little God suit”. That’s what I call it when I’m in an “I know better than God does” mode. Trust me – it hasn’t worked yet! 😉  

I really just wanted to check in with you…I miss you all!  I’ll post again soon because a huge part of the purpose of this blog was to be honest with – and about – grieving and loss. That includes especially – showing the beautiful lights at the end of the tunnel! I love you ❤️

Ciao amici ❤️


As time is passing since Mom’s death I’m realizing that when you lose your mom you lose a large center of stability.  A great wisdom is garnered by a woman that has raised a family and, although I didn’t always agree with Mom on everything, she was a soft place to land when the world seemed too big and daunting. I could usually take comfort in her just being here. There was an amazing acceptance in her.  She loved her family, from her children down to her great-grandchildren, entirely unconditionally – which is something I’m only in hindsight realizing. Maybe that was part of the great wisdom she reaped from raising eleven children. 

Mom was widowed at 48 years old. She still had young children at home. I never really gave her credit for being such a strong woman. The years following my Dad’s death were such very hard years on all of us.  We floundered with each other and we floundered within ourselves. There were so many dark and grief-filled days, but somehow Mom pulled through and brought all of us through with her. 

This past Monday would have been her birthday.  She’s been gone a little over three years but there are still days I miss her so much I can’t breathe. There are days that precede a special event like her birthday or this upcoming weekend with Mother’s Day, in which my emotions explode and magnify and I don’t know why until something reminds me that these “marker” days are coming up. 

Then it all makes sense. My center of stability is gone and I’m in the process of redefining that center. It’s hard. It’s a journey of two steps forward and one step back. It’s a winding path of indecision that on the outside appears to consist of choices that are clear and defined. It’s a process nobody else will understand until they are faced with their own similar process…and that – that is where Mom’s great wisdom came from…the many paths upon which she had to traverse. 

We love you and miss you Mom. Happy Birthday and Happy Mother’s Day.  Thank you ❤️