Widowers shouldn’t get sick.
At least this one shouldn’t.
Three days in bed.
Another wave
Pain in stillness.
Relief in movement.
Through the memories.
Through the fear.
I emerge covered in tears.

The healing journey of a widowed, unschooling badass in Delaware.
Widowers shouldn’t get sick.
At least this one shouldn’t.
Three days in bed.
Another wave
Pain in stillness.
Relief in movement.
Through the memories.
Through the fear.
I emerge covered in tears.
I’m struggling the last day or so and grateful to receive this get well message from a wonderful woman in my life.

I try to find inspiration in her compassion.
“Ache Rush Away”
Peace draws near.
I trust in healing as another aching night closes in.
There is relief in breath and quiet.
I am ready to heal and say goodnight to this restless pain.

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Exhaustion rolls in without warning.
Muscles contract and head inflames.
It is time for rest.
It is time for rest.
It’s rebirth season in the soil.
Fingers work between roots.
Wild purple weeds must make way for early strawberries.
Worms, beetles, and spiders labor alongside me.
We dig and clear.
Bees and wasps hang dowsy in the air.
We are all in the dirt, born of the dirt, growing in God’s dirt.






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A coin in your tea drawer.
Your favorite cup.
A lonely, tired morning.
“I wish you were here.”
You walk into the kitchen,
slow to wake eyes and thick, messy hair,
like every morning.
We hug, like every morning.
It should feel good.
But, it isn’t true. It isn’t right.
This isn’t every morning.
I fracture.
“I love you. You don’t belong here. You belong in Heaven.”
My heart wrenches.
Wordlessly, a gentle kiss, you walk away.
This is real.
I’m on my hands and knees, forehead to the ground.
Tears and sobbing prayers
begging for mercy from this pain.
This pain is mine.
A special gift I don’t understand.
It makes me whole again.

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We are lost without myth.
We have severed spirit from material.
We are fallen.
Breathe and Receive
Pray in the sunlight
Receive peace
Ask God for direction
Receive composure
Breathe in and receive life
Take in the day and the truth
Bring the Spirit into your body
Sit with the quiet of His word
Receive His grace.

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The swamp darkens
Branchless trees stretch up straight as iron rods
I recall my gifts
God’s armor encircles me
A spirit fighter joins me
We are ready for battle.


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I dream of respite from this
vaguely lit swamp, free of definition and vegetation
Snakes of all sizes,
from parasite to dragon,
twist and swarm as a mass around my legs.
Feeling my fear,
they wrap, constrict, and bite
I open my mouth to cry out
An impossibly large, slick, black body
pours down my throat
bursting into a million worms
stinging my skin from the inside
Sleep only comes with exhaustion.
The sun speaks to my skin
Breath flows, charges, and stops
I am peace in the morning breeze
I thank God for this moment,
this body, and this practice
He answers with healing
Breathe in
Move legs and spine
Celebrate what I have been given

Disclosure: The links below are affiliate links, meaning, at no additional cost to you, I will earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase.