Hopeful But Hurting

I haven’t cried in a couple of days.That might not sound like much, but it feels like a quiet victory in a storm that never fully passes. You’ve been eating. Taking your medicine. Yesterday, you even watched a video about ECT. That alone feels like a whisper of progress, a thread of hope I can … Continue reading Hopeful But Hurting

Just Enough

I spoke to your nurse last night.She said you were doing better.You ate a little bit.You drank one of those high-calorie protein drinks.Physical therapy came, and you walked the hallway.You brushed your teeth.You took the Ativan—twice. Just enough hope for me to hang on to. That’s the cycle I’m caught in. The rise and fall … Continue reading Just Enough

Breaking The Broken

You were my solace.My steady.My safe place to land when the world felt too sharp, too loud, too much.You always knew. Even when I said, “I’m fine,” you saw through it.You’d tilt your head, pull me close, whisper, “Talk to me.”And somehow, the weight would lift—just enough to breathe again. But now, it’s me who’s … Continue reading Breaking The Broken

A Month Without You

It’s been a whole month since you’ve been home. Thirty days since I last felt your presence in the quiet corners of our house. I miss you. I miss us. I miss your light, the way your laugh used to fill a room and soften even the hardest of days. I miss your love, the kind … Continue reading A Month Without You

May 16: A Heavy Day of Love and Loss

Today would have been my mom’s 70th birthday. She died in 2003, and every year since, this day has carried a quiet, familiar ache. I miss her deeply, all the years we didn’t get, all the memories we never made. But this year, the grief feels different. It’s not just about my mom anymore. The … Continue reading May 16: A Heavy Day of Love and Loss

This Love Isn’t Finished

I woke up at 1:45 a.m. again. I didn’t even try to go back to sleep. The second I opened my eyes, your face was there. Your pain. Your silence. The weight of it all. Today, I have to fight for you — because there is no fight left in you. I cry as I … Continue reading This Love Isn’t Finished

To my Husband: Mother’s Day Without Your Flowers

Every year that we've been together, you’ve surprised me with beautiful hanging baskets and porch pots. Mother’s Day was always your holiday to shine. You wanted those flowers to last, to mean something, because you knew how deeply I love being a mom. A lot of years, they would just show up—no fanfare, no big … Continue reading To my Husband: Mother’s Day Without Your Flowers

A Woman Holding on to a Man Letting go

I haven’t posted in a while. Not because things have gotten better, but because I was afraid I was trauma dumping. There's this guilt I carry, that sharing too much of the dark makes people turn away, that the more I say, the heavier it becomes not just for me, but for anyone reading. But … Continue reading A Woman Holding on to a Man Letting go

Choking on Coffee and Holding Back Tears

This morning, I woke up thinking about rest and how badly I needed it after the night before. Sleep had been broken and restless, and my body ached from the emotional weight it carried yesterday. I barely made it through the day, running on fumes and emotions I couldn’t name. Today began with coffee. It’s … Continue reading Choking on Coffee and Holding Back Tears

You Never Know When It Will Hit

You never know when it will hit.The tears, I mean. The ones that steal your breath, make your chest tight, your throat close. The ones that don’t just come from your eyes—they come from somewhere deeper. Somewhere hollow and aching and still bleeding. I was just thinking about the flowers. My husband used to bring … Continue reading You Never Know When It Will Hit