Posts Tagged "personal growth"

Erik Grieve’s Easter Sunday Request

»Posted on Aug 31, 2009 in BLOG, Death Of Spouse, DROP DEAD LIFE, Parenting & Loss, Sex For Widows | 0 comments

I admired Erik in the shower that Easter Sunday morning. Salt and pepper hair. Deep brown eyes. Broad masculine shoulders covered by smooth olive skin. Steam had filled the bathroom, like the fog that frequently hovered over the Golden Gate Bridge. I could only see parts of his body through the hazy, glass shower doors. He sat against the corner of the tub, as he always did, carefully scraping the skin off of his well-manicured feet. I pulled out an assortment of maternity clothes from the closet and set them on the bathroom counter. Knowing we’d be taking tons of family photos during Tatiana’s first real Easter egg hunt, I wanted to look better than I felt at seven months pregnant. “Ugh!” I groaned. Erik turned off the shower, dried himself,...

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Confronting the Lion (Prologue)

»Posted on Aug 23, 2009 in BLOG, DROP DEAD LIFE, Memoir Excerpts | 0 comments

Have yet to figure out the descent from these mountains I have climbed. Two butterflies, burnt orange in shade, dance frantically around me, only an inch away from each other. Bells in the distance, buoys navigate the way, and the fog horn blows on this clear sun-filled day. There are no whales to be seen down below. No seals doing somersaults. No deer hopping their way through the golden summer bushes. I turn off my music so that I may hear the mountain lion preying on me for her morning feast. I figure if she eats me, it was meant to be my day. Beneath my breasts is now a belly which is softer than it was—a capsule recycling souls who have been here before. The power of this womb. What meaning lies ahead for this heart I will reveal one day? A grand ...

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Love After All?

»Posted on Aug 18, 2009 in BLOG, Dating For Widows, Death Of Spouse, DROP DEAD LIFE, Sudden Death | 0 comments

Three years had passed since the last time I had seen Erik. This would be interesting, I thought, as I finished drawing the black eyeliner on my upper lids. I slid into a just-tight-enough pair of black pants and declared the matching violet sweater set winner of the “I want to look good, but not too good” contest. My bed was made for the first time in weeks, its inviting purple and red chenille covers setting a serene and sensual mood. It was time to present myself as the successful baby photographer. Time to show that I was a together 26 year-old woman, someone who learned from her mistakes, someone willing to take responsibility for her actions. Time to apologize for all of the crap I put on Erik when we broke up. I gathered the clothes that were...

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