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Friday, August 8, 2014


One year ago tonight, sweet Eddie let go and said goodbye to us surrounded by special friends and me with a waiting room full of most special people and our children.  We told him we loved him and that it was ok to go.  I never could have imagined the emptiness I would feel without him, the struggles I would face being a single parent or the fear that the best came and went so quickly.  Yet, here I am still standing and somehow surviving through it all.  I suppose the best part, if I was to say there was one, is seeing the true humanity that does exist.  There have been so many new friends that have come my way, so many incredibly special people that might not otherwise have crossed my path.  While of course they are not "worth" having lost Eddie, they certainly have made this road more bearable.  They have helped to reaffirm that when God closes a door he opens a window and that even after the darkest nights, the sun does shine.  It isn't always easy to remember during those dark nights but I try.
I thank all of those that have been here for us this year, that hold us up and carry us through the darkness, that have not forgotten us and that continue to wish us peace.
We wrote notes to Eddie on balloons today and sent them up to the heavens.  I hope he somehow sees the words and somehow lets us know.  We miss him dearly… forever in our hearts.


Tuesday, July 29, 2014


Most of us take our birthdays for granted.  Each year we know they will come and perhaps we will do a dinner, have a party for the "bigger" ones, a lunch with friends and then the day passes.  They come, and they go.

But Eddie's came this past Sunday, July 27th, and there was no dinner with friends to plan, no surprise lunch, no present to buy, no cake to get and no candles to light.  There were no "Happy Birthday to you" to be sung.  No smiling kids faces celebrating their dad.  Worst of all, it would have been his 50th and I most certainly would have done something big for him.  We loved surprising each other on our birthdays.

We celebrated him in our own way by going to a baseball game in Texas with my family and it was the best way to honor the day I suppose.  HIs birthday will keep coming and going but never the same way as before when it really was a celebration of him.  Eddie loved his birthday and I know why - because it truly was a blessed day for those of us who knew him and loved him. 

Celebrate your birthdays... you mean something to at least one person just for being here.


Tuesday, June 24, 2014

A Blessing for Today

I love this prayer that I stumbled upon awhile ago - it sits on my wall at work... always a reminder.  I am so grateful - even for the pain.  Eddie always said that too.

May today there be peace within.  May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.  May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.  May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.  May you be content with yourself just the way you are.  Let this knowledge settle into your bones and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.  It is there for each and every one of us.


Thursday, June 12, 2014


I had never given much thought to the meaning or purpose of "Mother's Day" or "Father's Day."  I know many refer to them as "Hallmark Holidays," a way to sell more cards.  I certainly can understand this.  Not having a husband to help celebrate for and with my kids on Father's Day is a bit perplexing.  What do they do?  What do they do on that school day when everyone is making their Father's Day gifts?  No doubt they fear the stares, the questions, the "poor you" looks.  I am much more sensitive now to these holidays.  Why can't they just be "Special Friends" Day or "Those That Influenced Us" Day.

My wondering led to a simple question - What is the history of Mother's and Father's Day.  It seems pretty clear in fact - why perhaps being well intended by some person back in time, it was overtaken by advertisers and retailers to sell more goods!  The Hallmark Holiday really isn't such a myth after all.
Certainly "special friends" day might not sell as many gifts as it might not be that personal after all.

Certainly in today's world with all sorts of people that are a "father" or a "mother" to a child, it seems a shame that children in those situations, mine included, don't have an opportunity to celebrate those people on these days as well.

Now if I can just get Hallmark on board.

Monday, May 26, 2014


First Anniversary - May 25, 2014.  What to do.. what to do.  Nobody had any really great suggestions. It seemed odd to just let the day come and go without any reference of any sort.   We were in Texas so I just wasn't sure what to do to commemorate it as we had been married in LA.

 It would have been 11 years.  I am so grateful we had 10 and that we were able to celebrate it last year before Eddie really took a dive.  What a beautiful memory we created for me.  My wedding day was still the absolute best day of my life… I had waited so long.  I certainly never imagined that would only last 10 years.

SO what did I do?  Eddie had graciously agreed to learn a country and western song for our first dance.  It was Tim McGraw's Best Friend.  So appropriate as he was such my best friend.  So, to mark it in the most unusual way, I put my cowboy boots on and headed to the Fort Worth Stockyards, to Pearls Dance Hall and Saloon.  I found me a real cowboy sort and I danced and danced and danced.  I thought of Eddie and my dancing that first song "quick quick slow … slow… quick quick slow… slow" - counting the steps out to him, making sure we did the twirl just right, remembering everyone around the dance floor clapping and cheering us on.  The best day.  The very best.  I think Eddie would have loved to see me do that for us … dance and count the steps.

Hugs to all,

Thursday, April 24, 2014

The Times - They Aren't for the Weak…..

I don't know what is hardest about losing a spouse… is it the loneliness at night when the kids are asleep and the house is quiet - sure you can watch tv alone… but isn't it more fun to embrace a show with someone watching with you?  Is it when you find yourself at some party and you walk in alone and look around and can't find that person that is waiting for you or look to see your special person right there next to you?  Is it when you go somewhere with your kids and they run off to be with their friends and you find yourself alone with the parents but without a spouse as they all have with them?  Is it at the baseball games and basketball games when your kid does some great play and you don't have that person to smile at and say with your eyes "that is our kid!"

It is all of them and more.  

It is when you see someone you know and meet someone new and know that the first thing they are going to say when you walk away is "that is the one I was telling you about that lost her husband.  It is so sad."

It is when you get invited to something and you reply "1" will be attending and when you walk in to a restaurant and have to say "one adult, 2 kids."  Or when someone says "where is your spouse?"  Dead.  

It is a constant reminder.  The everyday of life bombards your mind with the aloneness of it.

Worst of all, it is the knowledge that you don't have that ONE person that you had before - the one that is always there for you, that helps you take a step back from an emotional situation, that hand slaps you and chuckles at your kids accomplishments, that tells you you are wonderful just the way you are and that hugs you and kisses you right before you go to sleep. 

The aloneness is all around you.  Always.

Hugs to all, 

More Signs

I didn't realize it has been so long since I have posted.   My last "sign" from Eddie was pretty magical but there have been even more.  I love them and think of them over and over in my mind.

A week or so after the text one I was telling a friend how hard it is to grieve the loss FOR Eddie.  Sure, I miss him, my kids miss him but we are alive and busy and have to keep going.  When I stop, when I am in the quiet of life, I feel the grief FOR Eddie - I grieve for what he misses and doesn't get to be a part of here.  WIth that, my friend said, "but perhaps he is and the text and other signs are his way of really showing you he is here seeing it all with you."  I told her I hoped so.  After that, I left and went to a store for a friend.  I quickly called her to ask which brand of something she wanted.  My touches were simple - phone, favorites, friend number.  After we hung up and I was in the check out line, I heard chimes.  Very unusual chimes.  I look around and finally realize the chimes are coming from my phone.  I look down, press menu and swipe it and up pops:

I don't know how these things happen but I know it happened.

More recently, we went to our temple's family camp.  We were outside at the morning shabbat service, a very special place for Eddie.  Just as the Rabbi said, "it is now time to turn our thoughts to those that came before us."  With that, a huge black and white monarch butterfly (which has been the butterfly before) flew down, flew straight to Dylan, fluttered in her face a bit and then flew around and out of the area we were in.  It was awesome and even Dylan asked me later "Mom, did you see that butterfly?  It flew right at me."  I loved that she noticed.  

It does make one wonder… could he possibly be around us?  I hope so.

Hugs to all, Lorin

Wednesday, January 29, 2014


I am a believer.  I like to believe in things.  I like to believe that there is something greater than us - it brings me comfort and always has throughout my life, in good times and bad.  I believe that things happen for a reason - not to say that I can see any reason for Eddie's dieing - but I generally believe that if one just listens to life's whispers, they generally tell you what to do and where to go and why things might not be happening the way you want. Thank God for unanswered prayers as the say.

I have never been sure however that I was a believer in hearing from those that have died.  It seems unreal.  A body dies.  That is it.  Yes, there is this soul but what is that exactly.  When I sit very quietly I hear and feel something deep within myself that I know is something greater than my body.  My brother and I used to challenge each other to sit and really ponder what are we exactly?  What is this body and this feeling within.  Perhaps through Eddie's death I am starting to learn a bit.  I feel him, I see clear signs he is around.  Here are the latest incidences.

I was at a religious school advisory board meeting last week.  Religious education was something very important to Eddie.  He volunteered at the religious school for several years (how he ended up as an art teacher helper is another question but he loved it each and every week).  Most everyone that knows us knows that our temple was a safe place.  It was a special place.  It was a home for us and we reconnected there over and over.  As always, I had my phone in sleep mode, nearby for those moments when the meeting goes astray.   One of these times, I reached to my phone, gently pressed the menu button and swiped it on.  We all have done this countless times and the screen pops up to the last place we were - the text screen, a text exchange, an email exchange, a webpage, etc.  At this particular moment, here is what popped up on my screen:

There was simply no explanation other than some divine soul intervention.  It was not as if my phone accidentally went to a former text exchange with eddie- this one is blank.  It is not an old email.  It is a brand new text started with Eddie's name in the "to" space.   He was there.

A few nights later as I lay sound asleep, I woke very startled and very alert. I truly with all my being felt his presence.  I woke myself up more and I talked to him, sure to capture the moment.  I said "ok, I know you are here.  I feel you" and with that I felt a very firm tap just behind my right shoulder and I acknowledged it.  I slapped myself silly in that moment making absolutely sure I was awake and realized it was real.  It was.

Recently, we were at a friends house who I had not been to since Eddie died and this family was one we spent a lot of time together as families.  The husband and I were standing very close to the door as I was getting ready to leave having dropped my daughter off there.  The doorbell rang.  We both walked to the door and he opened it.  There was nobody there.  No menu left behind, no solicitation, no person heading down his porch stairs, no kids pranking.  It was Eddie, just letting us know he was there.

Lastly, as my son packed his brand new baseball backpack with all of his baseball accessories, he and the babysitter heard a knock on the door.  Eddie loved baseball - it was his favorite sport.  My son and the babysitter went to the door and opened it only to find absolutely nobody there.  They both heard the knock clearly.  My son told me "mom, it was dad. He loved baseball you know."

He is here.  It gives me the best comfort knowing that he is with me in some way some how.  I hope he is happy with all that we are doing in his memory and to honor him each day.  I hope he knows how much peace his little injections into life bring to me.

Hugs to all,

Wednesday, January 22, 2014


I am really appreciating the grief group I attend at a place called Our House.  It is such a nice group of people and we manage to laugh and talk and cry together quite easily.  The bond from this loss will inevitably last forever and we will each give and take that which we can and need.

At the end of each group meeting, we receive a reading that we read out loud.  I really appreciate these readings.  Here is the latest that really has stuck with me:

Some People
Some people come into our lives and quickly go
Some people move our souls to dance.
They awaken us to new understanding with the passing whisper of their wisdom.
Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon.
They stay in our lives for a while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never ever the same.

Author Unknown

My soul definitely danced from the moment I met Eddie.  I am not sure it will ever dance that way again but it is forever warmed by his having been with it for those 11 years.  He imparted so much wisdom on me that sticks with me to this day.  I try so hard to listen at those moments that I would have sought it still.

Hugs to all,

Friday, January 3, 2014


I suppose I always took for granted, particularly these last 10 years, the relevance of family to the holidays.  "Going to be with my family" just always was what I did, what others did.  It was sacred carved out time.  But when a key element of your family is no longer there, how does "going to be with my family" make sense?  How can I be?  He isn't here. … a key component.  He can't be made up for, his absence can't be ignored and that hole of him not being there certainly cannot be filled.  I have learned a few things that can be done around it that certainly can help ease the pain of that absence.  I share these things only with the hope or intention that I awaken someone else so they are able to help the next one that follows in my path.  Perhaps some day my children read this and get what it means to really comfort someone who is grieving.

Everyone certainly moves on with their own lives.  I don't know if I entirely agree with most people who say that to me in the sense they mean it (as if trying to explain why people don't call or check in).  People certainly continue to move forward and carry on as they should and are entitled to do.  But most people stop when they see me and offer a hug or a smile or ask how we are all doing. So many reach out and email or call to ask directly, those in town and out of town.  Most people want to acknowledge the grief.  They know.  Life isn't back to normal for us.

A wise man recently told me that some might want to just see me get back into the wheel of life that I was in before, that not being in that wheel makes them feel uncomfortable with themselves or around me.  But my life isn't going back to that normal and as far as my being a cog in that wheel, I am now a bent cog and I won't be able to go back into that wheel.  I now must find a different wheel to fit into to carry me on my journey.  I am absolutely committed to that once I am through mourning the wheel I am no longer a part of.

I think its important for people to understand this analogy - its not being healed or getting fixed or the right therapist or the right grief group.  Its about time and going through the process of grief.  This process is so different for everyone but so necessary for all.

I also have realized the power of "how are you"once you are not so fine.  Three simple words.  They show care and concern.  They show "I know your life isn't the same."  But I also think perhaps these three words need to be turned inside out at times. Perhaps consider "I am thinking of you.  I know it must really be tough during the holidays (or summer or whatever time it is) and I am thinking of you today".  It takes the onus off the person grieving so that they don't feel compelled to pretend they feel something they don't such as "I'm fine" or feel that they must get into a deep explanation of how or why they don't feel fine.  It is expressing that the person has taken the time to imagine without my having to explain what it is like.

Lastly, talking about the person who is no longer with us means the world.  It keeps his/her spirit alive within us.  It helps give us a safe place to talk about him/her and it means that you too want to remember and keep that spirit a part of us.

Again, I come back to the wisest words I have ever heard about showing up for others - it changes nothing but means everything.

I survived the first holidays.  They were rough, they were hard and I missed Eddie.  I am grateful I had all of you asking if you could be with us.

Hugs to all,