a scribble of jo

where to?

Tag: young widow

  • the pieces of

    I miss you. Your physical presence next to me when I wake up in the middle of the night. The sounds of you puttering around the house while the rest of us sleep. The knowledge that you will lock the doors before you go to sleep. These comforts exist no longer. They were buried with…

  • but myself more than all

    What doesn’t make sense to me is how this loss, the death of my husband, the person who knew me more intimately than all others, has turned me into a stranger to even myself. I don’t recognize that woman in the mirror. That hand holding my child. The voice in the video. I can wrap…