I married relatively later in life, and so being unfamiliar with some of its rituals, had asked my friend Pam about a rather important one in particular.
Category: Widow
Uprooted
Just when you feel that your life may be on track, fate, the gods, or happenstance steps in front of you and waves its fat, jiggly arms.
I posted last week about tackling some of my late husband’s belongings in the bedroom. It was a mistake. Continue reading “Uprooted”
A case of the onesies
In the South, you don’t go grocery shopping; you go “tradin’.”
And those four-wheeled caged contraptions you push up and down the aisles to transport your goods out to the car are not shopping carts, they’re called “buggies.”
Passed port
I decided to thin out my filing cabinet this weekend and came across my husband’s passport.
It was a wrench, I’m not gonna lie. Continue reading “Passed port”
