I know now there are no answers, no comfort, no end. Heaven was any place where we were together, and Hell is any place where we are apart. No one, nothing, can change this. Everything we had was taken from us.

Farmer Mother Banker - in PNG. Friday, April 22, 2011. Dining out in Port Moresby. The question I am most often asked by friends and family back home. It was looking pretty good at step 1.

Desolata the exhibition, my contribution at least, was originally intended as a requiem for my trees. The Drought of 2015 had taken a heavy toll on my immediate landscape, with stringybarks dying en masse. The death of the trees was the final straw for my already fragile equilibrium and my mental health declined somewhat. I saw dead trees and it hurt my heart. In order to heal you must examine that which ails you, I have learned that lesson.

A widower keeps his wife alive. Friday, March 1, 2013. Powerful photo series from another who lost his wife to breast cancer. Monday, April 16, 2012. In your last weeks of life your greatest concern was how our sons were going to handle your death, but most of all was your worry about our youngest son E who was 15 at the time. As usual, you were right as E he has had the greatest struggle of the three. I promised I would take care of them, especially E. I quit my job as the travel.

Sunday, September 19, 2010. After I wrote my previous post I realized I am back in the blahs. Knowing that I will never be happy again. That I will always know how harsh life can be. That death is always around the corner. And that I will always wonder what life with Bryan would have been like. And that makes me so sad. And that seems so incredib.

Thursday, July 7, 2016. I look at that post, re-entering all of those days, the horror and the beauty and the right-here-with-me inside this that he used to be. The endless, endless retching. Knowing it still lives in me. You say this with that light in your eye, in your voice, teasing me. Holy fuck, it is true. What I said all those years ago.

My husband died of a cardiac arrythmia in April 2008. This blog is the record of my work to return to wholeness. Wednesday, January 23, 2013. My husband died suddenly and unexpectedly in his sleep in April of 2008, at the age of 48. I was 45 and our daughter was 21 months. I am still doing so. I yearn for intimacy, .

I started this blog the day Sara and I found out we were going to be parents. Now, she and Miranda are waiting for me on the other side. Wednesday, February 29, 2012. This is not at all how. We thought it was supposed to be. We had so many plans for you. We had so many dreams. And left us with the memories of your smile. And nothing we can say. And nothing we can do.

Friday, November 11, 2011. Where did the magic go? Saturday, October 22, 2011. I got in trouble yesterday. Yesterday I was told that I am killing myself. I was told that in a matter of months I will be a full blown diabetic. I was told that my risk of complications is much greater than that of others. I was told that there is no pill that will fix my problems and unless I decide to do something about it, I will basically kill myself. Monday, October 10, 2011. Saturday, September 24, 2011.

I read encouraging words from another former widow who writes about life after loss and loving again. So, perhaps my purpos.