These truths might not be popular, especially among people who like to stay busy and cyclists who like to travel in groups and draft behind one another. But they are insights that could only be gained by several days in a ditch, ER and hospital -- my own school of hard knocks.
What I'm left with now is not only all of Chrissy's things for the time being, but this drive to carry on without her. I refuse to acknowledge we lost, that I am defeated. She wouldn't want that. I try to appreciate beautiful days for both of us. I've caught myself wondering if I can accurately gauge what she would and wouldn't have loved. I think I can. No, wait -- I know I can.
I saw no silver lining in my mom's young death. She was 46 and I was 15. It ushered in my life, 2.0, a time when I came to view the world through catastrophe-colored lenses -- something with which I still struggle.
The movement toward "good" death - legalized medical aid in dying - has been growing for decades in the U.S., but has been gaining momentum and attention in recent months.
It is so profoundly difficult to move forward after our superhero dies, but it is possible to live life again. You'll always have a hole in your heart from your loss, but you'll make it -- you'll even be happy again.
I strongly believe everything happens for a reason. Had terminal cancer not happened to me, I would not have been able to inspire my closest friends and family to appreciate the beautiful gift of life a little more and live more appreciative and positive lives with my story.
"Mother's Intuition kicked in," Heather told me, "and I said we're going to the children's hospital and won't leave without answers. Something's going on."
Many dying patients cling to a zest for life and a sense of humor that endear them to hospice workers.
The bond we share is one of loss but it is also one of strength, courage, perseverance, and eventual, renewed living. I am certain -- given the choice -- each one of us would rather not have you walk amongst us, but since you are here, know that you have our spirit and example in which to hang onto throughout the entirety of your journey.
Mother's Day is here and it's my first one without Mom. My mother, Evelyn Levine, died on April 19, and it was a huge personal loss as well as the end of an era. She was the last of the Greatest Generation in her family. More importantly, she was an amazing mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, as well as my biggest fan.
I feel as if our life's story has been ripped in half. The latter chapters were snatched away and callously thrown into the wind. I've tried to recapture some of the pages, frantically grasping whatever I could as they whirled about.
I never got to celebrate a Mother's Day with Simon. He arrived just before Thanksgiving and left right after the New Year. However, the legacy he left for our family and others will forever be celebrated and cherished on days like Sunday.
One of the common threads that all widows experienced were having to bear witness to uncomfortable comments. Sometimes, people do say the wrong things, and it stings.
On May 2, 2014 Jacqui and Dan Saldana lost their 3-year-old son, Ryan. Although I never met him, a piece of my heart broke off when he died. I learned about Ryan, while he still graced the planet, from my niece Molly.
I should have played her favorite music, opened her scrapbooks and patiently listened as she attempted to say words she couldn't remember. I should have combed her hair again and brought her costume jewelry. I should have stayed longer.
It's so important to start each day with a fresh perspective and insight. Don't allow past decisions, past hurts or past mistakes to follow you into...