The day I let that car go was tough for me, and I know it was for our daughters as well. That car meant so much to my husband, and it felt like another piece of him was leaving us.
Author Stacy Feintuch
Do you remember what year your favorite TV show debuted, your favorite movie came out or when you first danced to your favorite song?
I like being alone. There. I said it. I like being alone. I did not know this about myself until recently.
Now what? Did I have to go back to work full-time? Who would hire me after being out of the job market for 12 years? How was I now going to support the three of us? Was I going to lose our house?
He had gone off in a corner somewhere and was nowhere to be seen when we began to eat. As we sat in the dining room eating and talking, we had no idea what was going on in the kitchen.
My oldest daughter inherited her father’s love for food. I love to see that part of him in her.
The seventies – a great decade for television. Sitcoms were funny, diverse, family-oriented, modern, and even serious sometimes. This is my list of the best sitcoms…
Medication? I had never considered that before. My husband died – of course I was sad. That didn’t mean I was “depressed”. I was always a glass-half-full, easy-going kind of girl. I was not someone who took meds.
When my husband passed away eight years ago, household repairs were on my very long list of things to worry about. Granted, he couldn’t actually fix things, but he was the one responsible for getting it done in some way.
My first thought as I looked at our table was, “Well, this is very Modern Family”. The widow with the divorced guy and four daughters between them, some with significant others, one being same-sex.