Widowhood

So, we had a bird in the bathroom yesterday. The joys of living with two cats. I would have thought they had killed every bird, shrew, rat, mouse in the neighbourhood by now. Nope, Eliza managed to find another one. And brought it in the house. Because it is so much more fun to play inside. What was I thinking, leaving the backdoor open?? It’s like an invitation, right?

If you did a straw poll and asked folk what is their favourite season I'd hazard a guess that a lot of the answers would be Summer and Spring. After all they are the two seasons of growth and renewal. What's not to like about Summer? The days grow long. The sun shines and it's holiday time. Spring is the beginning of the end of Winter. Daffodils poke through the cold, wet ground and Mother Earth awakens from her Winter sleep. So, what about poor old Autumn/Winter? I like being different. I am not a great fan of Spring or Summer. There's too much light around. I love the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness that poet John Keats wrote about and and the Road Not Taken by Robert Frost.

I've been watching the 2016 Rio Olympic games from the start. I've loved watching many sports over the years but, to be pretty honest I've lost my mojo for getting into all things Olympic because of all the doping and corruption scandals. I began to watch last week with a huge dose of cynicism. Today I shed tears while watching the rowing finals. Ireland's O'Donovan Brothers have won a silver medal. It will be the first medal in Olympic rowing that Ireland has won. I felt very emotional and move

Bridget Jones and Widowhood The latest instalment of Bridget Jones, due for release 10 October, has caused a bit of a fuss amongst fans and...

After years of dreading sunny days and silent weekends, our Guest Writer kindly shares how something has quietly shifted. In this gentle reflection, she describes how spring light, birdsong, and a moment in the garden revealed not just change but the beginnings of peace.

Grieving – A Beginners Guide by Jerusha Hull McCormack When i was widowed in 2006 my sister came across this book in the library. The...

Joe Biden was Widowed Young News this week US Vice President Joe Biden will visit to Ireland brings to mind a speech he gave back in 2012. In 1972, twenty nine year old Biden was elected to the US Senate. One week after the election he lost both his wife and daughter in a traffic accident that also injured both his sons. Understandably, he almost resigned his seat. Despite his grief, he took the oath of office at the hospital bedside of his injured son Beau.

How do you make an introduction that's not boring. My name is Susanne and I found this site only a few days ago. (OK, that is boring) I only put a short "Hi" in the members forum and got ever so lovely responses very quickly. I also offered to write a blog for you. When my husband became ill I set up a FB page to keep our friends informed, instead of having to call or email everyone separately. Yes, I'm lazy. Very soon I started writing longer pieces, and I realised quickly how helpful this was. The support I got in the comments from our friends, most of whom live quite far away, was immense and became a lifeline. But I also noticed writing things down helped me to cope better.

This year more than any I can feel healing going on for me and I only say that to show that there is that hope to cling to. Winter and Christmas are bloody difficult times. For many here this is their first Christmas since the world stopped turning. The rest of the world keeps spinning but ours stopped on a particular day, on a definite minute.

When my husband was in ICU I would come home from the hospital feeling tired and wired up too. So, sleep was out of the question as my mind was wandering around the world and back. So much information and anxiety! The house was eerily silent compared to the whirr and click of the machines which were keeping my husband alive. Having decided to go to bed I switched on the TV to watch BBC and Sky News. After a few nights I realised that if I left the news programme on but decreased the volume then I would drift off into a peaceful enough sleep. I finally got into that sort of routine at night. Listening to news presenters was an ideal but weird kind of sleeping tablet. During the day I would drive into the hospital to meet the ICU teams and visit Dave. It was difficult to see him there in a coma and hooked up to machines. He was just a shell of a man or so I thought.