Don’t Call Me a Widow – Part 28

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The past two days were spent in Michigan, a place woven into the fabric of my life. For decades, Rich and I made that trip several times a year—always a weekend, always with purpose—until my mother’s passing in 2016. After that, visits became tied to work or special occasions, like my elementary school reunion. This time, though, the reason was simple and deeply important: my brother Gary has moved back from the West Coast, and I needed to be with him. Our time together was exactly what my heart needed.

If you follow my blogs, you know we lost our brother Joel last September. His passing has drawn Gary and me even closer, and now that he’s only hours away, being with him feels both necessary and healing. We shared lunch with two of our cousins, Anne and Kayla, and the conversation naturally drifted into stories—some joyful, some bittersweet—that reminded us of the bonds that shaped our childhoods and still hold us together.

Later that evening, more cousins gathered at Gary’s new apartment. It was simple, unplanned, and special. Having lived in the Cleveland area for 44 years—with only a small circle of family on Rich’s side—being surrounded by my Detroit family again stirred memories of my parents, who were always the center of our lively, vocal clan. The familiar energy of family—the laughter, the noise, the shared history—was overwhelming in the best possible way.

This little trip arrived at a tender moment. Wednesday marks what would have been our 42nd wedding anniversary. Although Rich died just short of that milestone, nothing diminishes the meaning of that day. July 15, 1984—before family and friends—we said, “I do,” and we lived those vows fully. “We Did,” and that truth remains.

Our years together were beautiful, but not without challenges. We navigated life’s twists with love, companionship, and a shared resilience that still lives within me. Rich’s presence continues to shape my days, and he is remembered by everyone whose life he touched during his 75 years.

Just as I reconnected with family this week, Alex and I spent time remembering the parts of Rich that made us laugh, smile, and feel grounded. I’m learning to let those memories warm the cold corners of my heart—the lonely spaces created when he died. I want those thoughts to honor him while helping me move forward and live fully. I will continue to wear my wedding rings; they are part of who I am, part of the woman Rich chose, part of the vows he kept.

On Wednesday, I will honor Rich and wish us a Happy Anniversary. The happiness lies in the love we shared, the life we built, and the family and friends who continue to walk alongside me.

I don’t have to walk this path alone. You can join me by sharing your journey too. Life is meant to be lived, and I intend to keep living mine with openness, gratitude, and love.

Join me as we walk this path together.

#YesICan Coaching with Karen

Email: Kh.yesican1@gmail.com

DONT CALL ME A WIDOW