Don’t Call Me a Widow – Part 29

Sunday

It’s a new week, almost mid-month, and summer seems to be slipping by faster than I’d like. I’m trying to soak in every bit of it, knowing winter is never my season. I don’t quite hibernate, but I sometimes wish I could. Still, that isn’t living—and I am determined to live.

For the past ten days, I’ve shared space with Alex while he spent his vacation here at home. Together we’ve purged, saved, and restored pieces of our lives, all while sharing memories and thoughts of Rich. Healing is happening, even with the moments of angst and tears that still rise up without warning.

Grief isn’t linear, nor does it look the same for everyone. What I’m learning is how essential it is to honor my own needs while also respecting the needs of those around me. I’ve felt such peace and love allowing both Steve and Alex to walk beside me. And as I mourn Rich, my niece Rachael has been my steady companion—both of us still grieving her father, my brother Joel. Between us, we’re keeping him close, holding onto the good memories and even the complicated ones, letting them help us heal.

As I continue this series, I’m looking forward to what lies ahead. Making and sustaining new friendships matters, just as much as nurturing the relationships I’ve carried through the years. Each day feels like an adventure, offering me purpose.

Last week in Detroit, Alex and I had dinner with Dennis, a friend from my Bagley Elementary days. He’s faced his share of health challenges, and after nearly four years apart, I felt a jolt seeing him. But once we settled into conversation, he was still the same Dennis I remembered. The physical changes faded, and I found myself relishing our time together—especially watching the connection he formed with Alex. Get the two of them talking sports or politics and they’re instantly in sync.

I had hoped to see my girlfriend Cheryl, but a family issue forced us to postpone. We did talk, though, and I realized I need to commit to more phone conversations with her. Some friendships deserve tending even when schedules get in the way.

Spending time with my brother, cousins, niece, and nephew filled a part of me that has felt so empty. It didn’t replace Rich—nothing will—but it helped soften the pit in my stomach that grief keeps trying to carve out. I know I can’t let that hollow feeling gnaw at me forever. I need to find the remedy before it makes me ill, and I am working on it.

In a few hours, Alex will pack up and head back to Columbus. His life is there, and he needs to keep growing and nurturing himself. He’ll be celebrating one year with his company and looking forward to continuing his work at OSU. I’m proud of him.

My own week is taking shape too. It’s a light schedule, but I have a few recordings planned, and next Saturday I’m hosting a group of new friends for Mahjong. My mother would be keveling.

Creating new friendships truly improves our health and longevity. Social connection lowers the risk of depression, high blood pressure, and cognitive decline. A core group of friends helps us cope with hard times—whether it’s the illness or death of a spouse, our own health challenges, or major life changes. Friends buffer stress, and through community, they bolster recovery.

When we find people to socialize with, they lift our mood, ease our anxiety, and help us build resilience. They give us purpose. They remind us we matter. And it’s never about the number of friends—it’s about the quality of the connection.

As we age, friendships across generations become especially meaningful. They create a tapestry of life—rich, textured, and full of perspective. Older friends may mentor us, and we may mentor those younger than us. Through wisdom, humor, and our shared love of humanity, we find ourselves again and again.

Join me as we walk this path together.

#YesICan Coaching with Karen

Email: Kh.yesican1@gmail.com

DONT CALL ME A WIDOW