Wishing and Hoping

~ rdicarne ~ 8 Comments

wish – verb

: to have a desire for (something, such as something unattainable)

What do you wish for?  When you were a child, you might have wished for a day off from school or a special present from Santa. As we get older, our wishes change. Maybe it was for the perfect job, a raise, or a promotion. I used to wish I were thinner or that we would hit the lottery.  Sometimes I wished for perfect weather or for my favorite team to win.

Can wishes come true?  Some can if you are willing to set an intention, work hard, and be patient.  Others are only pipe dreams. Since my life was turned upside down in September, I have found myself wishing for the impossible.

Widow Wishes

I wish I understood the level of grief that came with losing your spouse, so that I could have been more helpful to those widows I know who came before me, but you can never understand until you walk that path.

I wish I didn’t have to experience this pain, but unless we died simultaneously, I would be leaving Chuck with the pain, and that seems selfish.

I wish I had more time with Chuck, but I know that was not up to me, and honestly, no amount of time would have been enough.

I wish I could see into the future and know when I will be reunited with Chuck, but that wouldn’t make the waiting and living any easier.

I wish I could learn to notice all the signs I believe Chuck is sending me, but I also believe he is near and watching over me, even when I don’t see them.

It is okay to wish, but wishing away your life is not healthy or productive. I am working on changing “I wish” to “I hope.”  

hope – verb

: to cherish a desire with anticipation : to want something to happen or be true

 My hope is to continue to work through my grief and learn to allow it to live beside me, not consume me. I had many hopes for the future. Now, that future looks different, but it is a future nonetheless.

Safe Haven

~ rdicarne ~ 1 Comment

It was going to be our stepping stone

from the red brick row house in the city with a cement patio and back driveway

to an aluminum-sided twin in the “burbs” with a fenced-in backyard.

Each move was meant to bring us closer

to the larger single home with a two-car garage we imagined,

but instead, the twin house on Carriage Drive became our forever home.

In this home, we hosted Thanksgiving dinners and Christmas Feasts of the Seven Fishes.

With folding tables and chairs, we packed in guests like sardines.

Still, there was always room for one more to join the chaos.

It is where the love of everything Philly shines with pride –

where yelling at the TV on football Sundays or at the Phillies or Sixers

was a common occurrence, but the love for the teams never died.

Here, our children learned to cook by watching their dad  

make delicious dishes with the special ingredient: love.

Grandchildren come here for sleepovers with Nona,

to watch movies, make crafts, play games, and eat snacks.

It is my safe space to come home to at the end of the workday,

where the love of my life welcomed me home with a smile.

Now, I come home to an empty house, welcomed only by the memories,

but the memories are still so sweet, and I still feel safe.

Cul-de-Sac Reflections

~ rdicarne ~ 3 Comments

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

10 miles northwest of Philadelphia, where I grew up.

It is where we watched our children grow and pursue their interests,

where I established my 40-year teaching career in Catholic education.

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

where we were once a young couple with young children.

Now I am the resident living here the longest (but not the oldest!),

with a house empty but for the memories.

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

where neighbors look out for each other, especially when it snows.

It is where a neighbor, whose children have long been adults,

still has a basketball hoop out front for the kids.

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

where we gathered to watch each other’s children go to prom,

get married, and have children.

And now we talk about the grandchildren.

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

where I hope to live out the rest of my days,

knowing this is a circle where

everyone looks out for each other.

Detour

~ rdicarne ~ 2 Comments
Orange road sign with text ROAD CLOSED AHEAD DETOUR and a right-pointing arrow.


The road to growing old together

closed on 9/26/25

when he died at 69.

I thought there would be more time: 

more meals together

more goodnight kisses

more smiles when our eyes met

more late-night laughing

more watching sports together

more sitting in the same room together

just being together.

So now I am taking a detour,

learning a new route

with new experiences along the way

praying these roads eventually lead me

back to the love of my life.

Day 31

~ rdicarne ~ 7 Comments

At the start of this challenge, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to write every day for 31 days this year, but I made it! 

Thank you to the staff at Two Writing Teachers who provide us with this wonderful platform for 31 days in March and every Tuesday throughout the year. Thank you to all of the other slicers who encouraged and inspired me to write.Thank you to all of you who read and commented on my writing across several different platforms. 

Thank you to all of you for allowing me to share my grief journey with you, to give you a glimpse into what a wonderful man Chuck was, and to be vulnerable in a safe place. I appreciate all of your kind words of support. 

I look forward to continuing my writing journey on Slice of Life Tuesdays. 

If you are interested in flexing your poetry muscles, join some of slicers at EthicalEla.com in April. We are writing poems every day. I am hosting on 4/12.

Thank you Chuck, for always being my biggest cheerleader and continuing to inspire me from up above!

National Pencil Day

~ rdicarne ~ 6 Comments

There is nothing better than a super sharp No.2 pencil.  My weapon of choice is a Ticonderoga. Pencils are such an underrated writing utensil.  They offer you the comforting, soft scratching sound as they move across the page, and you can easily change your mind. 

When I came across the above quote, it really struck a chord with me. What kind of mark am I making? Will I be sharper after all this pain subsides? Those questions will be for another day. 

“It’s what’s inside that counts.” This is a lesson I learned growing up and one I tried to instill in my children and my students. I think this is the most important lesson of all. Goodness and beauty begin from the inside out. 

On this National Pencil Day, be like a pencil. Remember, you make a mark on everyone you touch, pain will make you stronger, and your best side is your inside. 

Sunday Sanctuary

~ rdicarne ~ 3 Comments

Sundays are for relaxing, 

That’s what I am doing today.

Sitting by the fire now

Letting my cares drift away.

Spending time with family

Is always good for the heart

Making memories to keep

For when we are apart.

Another Sign

~ rdicarne ~ 4 Comments

Today started out a little shaky.  I had a scheduled appointment to have my car inspected and an oil change. It had to be done today because the inspection sticker was set to expire at the end of the month, and I would not be able to take it on Monday or Tuesday. Yes, I know, I was cutting it close, but believe it or not, this is the first time I have ever done this myself. (I’ve been telling you I was spoiled!)

I got to the dealership on time and went into the office.  Of course, I had to go back out to the car to get my insurance and owner’s card because I didn’t know I needed to bring them in. (duh) When it was my turn to step to the counter, the service manager said he wasn’t sure whether they could do the work today because their systems had been down for 30 minutes, and they weren’t sure when they’d be back up. Cue the tears. I apologized for my mini meltdown, explaining that my husband died six months ago and he normally took care of all car-related things. To make matters more complicated, I had to attend the funeral of my cousin in three hours. I told him I would take a chance and wait to see if the system came back up.  

Once seated in the customer waiting area, I began thinking of what I could do if the work couldn’t be done today.  A nice man tried to make small talk, saying he had called his wife and said it might be a long wait, etc.  I was having trouble talking without letting the tears spill, but he was so kind. We had not been sitting there more than five or ten minutes when the service manager came up and said they were good to go, the computers were up and running. I told the man that my husband must be looking out for me.

About an hour later, my car was ready to go.  I decided to say hello to our salesperson, Diego, before I left, because when Chuck took the car for service, he would talk to everyone in the showroom! While telling Diego how much I am enjoying my car (bought it new in July), I mentioned Chuck.  Just then, Diego said he got the chills.  Now I may be watching too much of The Long Island Medium, but that seems to be a sign of a deceased presence.

I paid for the service and drove out to the parking area, where I pulled into a spot and put all the papers neatly in the glove compartment, when what song came on the radio but “Magnet and Steel.” (Those who have read some of my earlier posts will know the significance of this song.) That was my sign that Chuck was with me today when I tackled another one of those dreaded “firsts.”

There are those who may think I am crazy, but I believe our loved ones are sending signs from the other side.  

Friday Thankfulness

~ rdicarne ~ 4 Comments

Today, I am taking a cue from a fellow slicer, Karyn In The Kitchen, and making a list of the things I am thankful for this week.

  • my neighbor, who brings my trash cans back from the curb
  • leftovers from my daughter that yielded two dinners
  • an early dinner with a friend from college
  • grocery pickup services
  • surviving standardized testing
  • a delicious dinner I actually cooked myself
  • finishing and audiobook
  • warmer weather
  • a plan to refresh my flower beds
  • finding my missing Chapstick and spare house key
  • a refilled snack cart in the faculty room
  • The Phillies winning their home opener
  • the people who read my posts and those who comment on them
  • some free time at school to work on purging my classroom

A Widow’s Creed

~ rdicarne ~ 11 Comments

Six months down, a lifetime to go. Being a widow is hard. Taking on new responsibilities is hard. Living alone for the first time in my life is hard. Moving forward is hard. Being happy is hard. All of these things are hard, but not impossible.

Some days, it would be easy to give up, plant myself in front of the TV, and veg out. Some days I am up to the new tasks, but don’t always feel confident. Chuck was always my biggest champion, and he believed I could do anything I put my mind to, whether it was true or not. Sometimes I think he believed in me more than I believed in myself.

I am trying to overcome limiting beliefs that crowd my mind, especially on days when I am sad or tired. This is the most difficult thing I have ever had to do in my life: learning how to live without my best friend and partner. Even though I don’t like or want this new life, it is all I have.  If I truly want to honor Chuck, I need to make the most of it. We were a team, and our motto was “We’ll figure it out.” I know I can figure this out with my faith, family, and friends, but more importantly, with myself.

I am working on believing in myself more.  Over these past six months, I have learned and continue to learn new things about myself every day. I started a list of things I believe (or want to believe) and still need work on.

  • I believe I will always miss Chuck immeasurably.
  • I believe he is close by and watching over me.
  • I believe life seems unfair sometimes.
  • I believe I am strong enough to take care of myself.
  • I believe I have a supportive community of family, friends, and neighbors.
  • I believe I am intelligent and still have gifts to share.
  • I believe I will be happy again in some form.
  • I believe God has a plan for me.
  • I believe in the power of yet.

Now I need to keep repeating these until I believe them without hesitation.