Writing helps me think. I’m sure that’s not the case for everyone but for me, it’s calming, maybe even soothing. Right now, as I contemplate our future, I long for Ken’s counsel so fiercely that he should feel it, wherever his energy is in the universe. We’ve decided that we should follow that “no big decisions” rule that everyone talks about after a catastrophic event. Therefore, we’re not moving, period. Beyond that, no decisions have been made ….

I was going to write a #MeToo blog because I, too, have been groped, kissed against my will ….you know the stories if you know any woman.  Ken and I traveled the #MeToo route together many years ago but our attorney said that I had to want to continue working in the same job, within an organization that knew about and excused my harasser’s behavior (he’s a good guy, he doesn’t mean anything by it, he’s just “old school”). No, thank you. Also, to be perfectly honest, I was afraid that a public lawsuit would result in me being blackballed from employment in our community. What company would hire a woman who publicly proclaimed that she’d been sexually harassed by her employer?!  Ken was disappointed by my decision and he was right to be. But I’m not alone in that fear, am I?

Anyway, I will honor the person that I was THEN and the things I have learned SINCE and will try to stop blaming myself, judging my actions and my silence.

On to my question to the universe:  should I pursue the job that will undoubtedly require me to travel, especially since we’ve decided not to move? Or should I stop the madness right now and stick — at least for the short term — with the job that I already have? I can’t leave Ian in order to travel for work. There’s no question about that. So, why did I even apply for the job? Should I interview and IF I get offered the job, try to negotiate down the travel expectation (unlikely)? But what amount of travel would not be disruptive to my family right now?

I’ve been thinking a lot about this:  Another danger of a new and demanding job is that I tend to immerse myself in work. I’ve always done it — 12 hour days in the office were the norm in my old life. It took a toll on my kids but at least they were blessed with my husband’s presence.  Could our rickety foundation hold if I took this job?  I KNOW the answer to this world-bending question so why do I hesitate to act on it? Do I have the courage to believe that we’ll find a better answer out there somewhere?

I was visiting Shadyside Hospital recently and saw Ken’s oncologist. He actually saw me first and was waiting for me to notice him as I walked down the hall. I’ve been thinking a lot about him, the nurses, the oncology social worker. I sent the social worker a note recently, on the 6 month anniversary, and asked her to thank the care team. After Ken died, I couldn’t bear to visit the cancer center so I never did say thank you to all those caring folks. But it was really awesome to see Ken’s doctor. He asked about us all and we talked a bit about Ken. He told me that he continues to try, every day, to make a difference and I reminded him what a difference he made in Ken’s life and how much we both appreciated all he did for us. I think, perhaps, we forget sometimes that our caregivers are invested in our battles too.

It’s “Trunk or Treat” at the Dependable Drive-in theater this weekend. Mis-named without a doubt (since the treats are inside the vehicle trunks) but it isn’t the first time someone chose “clever” over “accurate!” Anyway, we’re taking a few of Ian’s friends. They’ll trick or treat at each car, then we’ll eat candy and popcorn while we watch a kid-friendly Halloween movie on a beautiful fall night in Pittsburgh. Today, more than anything, life is about the little moments.

Wishing you many little moments…