My fingers hover over the keyboard because they know my mind is a cauldron of mixed up words haphazardly collected as I walk through the fog that is this grief. In all those words I find one phrase….this sucks so bad. It has been 201 days since my husband killed himself. There are moments whenContinue reading “On the eve of his birthday”
Author Archives: Giselle Beaufort
Muhly Grass Blooms
This morning I almost didn’t make it out of bed again. Friday arrived while I slept and settled in with no particular mood. It was simply here, sitting in the Friday chair. I couldn’t find the anchors that were lost yesterday morning, so I had to make do with an improvised set that looked nothingContinue reading “Muhly Grass Blooms”
From Yesterday
I’m out of bed. So what? Big fucking deal. I’m back inside of day one, morning one, except this time there is no funeral to plan, no details of a military burial to go over, nothing to distract my mind from whatever the fuck place this is where nothing makes sense. Today I DoorDashedContinue reading “From Yesterday”
Doorways
Sometimes I feel like this blog should be called “Becoming a bitch: Life in the aftermath of suicide”. Or perhaps that term offends people, so I will change it to ‘Becoming an asshole after your husband kills himself”. This way people might know that becoming a widow isn’t just learning to fold this new title intoContinue reading “Doorways”
Droplets
Sometimes I see a Flying J and stopSometimes I put hazelnut in my coffee cupSometimes it’s the chill of winter’s skySometimes your eyesall the conversations kept insideAlwaysall the faces that I sometimes meetAlwaysthey are never youSometimes I see a Flying J and stop.Sometimes I put hazelnut in my coffee cupDroplets of a dreamwithout warning IContinue reading “Droplets”
The Flower Orphange
Saturday afternoon I went to the local garden center which, by the way, I prefer to think of as the flower orphanage. They are, after all, just group homes for flowers without parents. I mostly just needed to get out of the house so adopting new specimens was not part of the plan. But, asContinue reading “The Flower Orphange”
Layers
Life lays hidden, unpredictable Wrapped in layers of routines Blinds to open Dogs to feed Clocks to set Meals to eat They keep us safe We think Then one day, maybe a doorbell rings Are you his wife? This isn’t real Please have a seat I can’t He was found No he wasn’t Just downContinue reading “Layers”
Beau
When I woke up yesterday morning, he wasn’t nestled up against me. I had forgotten what life was like before he found me 3 months ago. Worried about my fearless friend, I went in search of him. Turns out he had finally discovered the kitten cove/bed I bought for him which has been sitting inContinue reading “Beau”
Secrets
This isn’t some great piece of poetic prose. It is a raw accounting of the text I received last night and the emotions it forced from the safety of the corners where I keep them. I am physically ill. The tsunami of tears has been unleashed. I am sickened by how humans treat one another. Continue reading “Secrets”
Decisions
In those first 7 days after he died my world was a swirling storm of things to do tempered by the knowledge that a tsunami was coming. There wasn’t time to feel the feelings that show up in the aftermath of suicide. Still, they showed up, unpacked their bags and made themselves at home. IContinue reading “Decisions”
Calendula
I have wandered through the marigold patch while birds talk to each other. I swear they are calling for “Richard Richard Richard”. I wonder who Richard is or how he got lost. I could spend hours with the marigolds, pulling leaves that are wilted, pruning branches too long and too heavy with the weight ofContinue reading “Calendula”
Old Friends
It’s Tuesday again. This isn’t something I think consciously when the sun ushers it in like clockwork every week. It’s something that sits in the chair in the corner of my room, patiently waiting for me to open my eyes. Even then it doesn’t announce it’s presence. It doesn’t say “hi” or “good fucking morning,Continue reading “Old Friends”
Good luck
I went to the store after work. I knew I needed to get out of the house. I can’t remember the last time I left. Oh yeah, I ran up to the garden center 8 days ago to get compost. I’ve been in this house ever since. Being at home day after day without muchContinue reading “Good luck”
Victories
This morning when my kitten walked across my chest so he could curl up right against me, stretch his little kitten paw to touch my face, close his eyes and go back to sleep the same way he has done every morning since I brought him home, I thought to myself “this is my favoriteContinue reading “Victories”
Anchors of a day
Piles of blankets and a duvet for good measure. My head on a pillow. The warmth of a kitten purring next to my heart. German Shepherd sneaking onto the bed Old lady hound dog licking her bone fan moving in circles ominously above Where are the birds It’s Tuesday again Door sliding open dogs rushingContinue reading “Anchors of a day”
Tuesdays
Sometimes when I open my eyes I feel the heaviness of the day embracing my body like it thinks it’s my duvet and it’s job is to wrap itself around me. At least now it’s only sometimes. In those first few weeks I felt the weight of the day like a quilt laying on meContinue reading “Tuesdays”
Sleep’s understudy
It’s late. I overslept. That’s not accurate. Sleep plays tricks on the grieving, coming and going outside of regularly scheduled programming. Last night’s program was scheduled to play until circa 0500, maybe 0600 depending on the sloth rating of my mind. Instead, on this morning, sleep shut down programming at 0300-ish and woke me upContinue reading “Sleep’s understudy”
The shadow, the tree and the road
Life is unpredictable and unforgiving. You must accept the things it offers up without warning. Offer is the wrong word, it implies that I have a choice to accept it or not. Some things are offered and some are just dropped, unceremoniously right in your lap. There’s no getting around them. Slammed into existence. Continue reading “The shadow, the tree and the road”
Ordinary Days
Day three back to work. I am not crumpled up in a ball on the floor unable to function. I am not laying in my bed trying to convince myself that there’s a world worth waking up for. I am sitting on my porch, dogs fed, kitten cuddled, coffee in hand, listening to the birds. Continue reading “Ordinary Days”
Soldiers never really come home
My morning was perfectly predictable. No straying from the order I’ve re-composed around the welcoming…no, the resignation of accepting, the beginning of another day. Now the poem I wrote rings through my head and knowing he couldn’t hear the garden symphony tears at my heart and I feel it at my core. Stupid fucking poems. Continue reading “Soldiers never really come home”
Becoming a Widow 