The day I found out I was pregnant with my second child was the day my husband died. He’d fallen asleep driving.
I had just seen him four hours before. Smelled him. Kissed him. And told him we were pregnant. And now, all at once, I was a widow.
I didn’t know how to be a widow.
Widows were old, with bunions.
Not 26, and pregnant.
So I put one foot in front of another, discovered healing in art, moved cross-country from Massachusetts to Oregon, and delivered my baby. But before I left, I did the strangest thing of all – sought out a spirit medium.
And then there was the dating.
Somehow that seemed scarier than the spirit medium.
Along the way I discovered that falling in love again wasn’t a betrayal, and soon enough, I was able to wear grief with grace – like an accessory.
I am currently seeking representation for my 69,000 word memoir, Grief Shadows: Young, Pregnant and Widowed. Please contact me for book proposal, sample chapters, or full manuscript.
