My family has celebrated Thanksgiving early for so long, I don't think we remember when we didn't. It stemmed out of a long-standing tradition my parents started by taking a month before Christmas to warm up in Florida or somewhere along the Gulf of Mexico. Dad was an avid golfer and Mom loved the food and outlet malls to shop for Christmas gifts for the family. It's something we're used to--and more than that--I love that on real Thanksgiving, I didn't have to go anywhere!

Today is my sister's birthday. It always has been. As long as I've been on earth. It was the first thing I thought of today when I looked at the date on the calendar to medicate my dog Kallie, per our morning ritual. (I sent my sister a card the other day and texted her this morning.) But there was something else about today that look a little longer to make itself known to me: it was fifteen years ago on this date when I first laid eyes on Ken  at a little bar in Ravenswood

I ran my first 5k recently. It was an amazing experience. For me, it was the return of…something. A break-through of some kind. One of the small victories that reminds you of the achievements you’re capable of. If you push yourself. It’s a sense of accomplishment I can’t say I’ve felt in a long time. The first race I selected was in my neighborhood. It seemed like the perfect inaugural run. No transportation or chaos in order to get there. I walked to the starting point, wea

I was minding my own business, singing my lungs out along with Pandora on the way home from dropping off my friend Mindy at O'Hare when I saw the oncoming Nissan SUV swerve into my lane, clipping the back of the Jeep in front of me. "Certainly, she'll correct her trajectory since she has already hit another car," I thought rationally as she continued further into my lane, slamming into the front quarter panel of my car, scraping all the way down the driver's side. Holy shit.

Yesterday I turned 45. It's my third birthday since Ken died, and it's also a date that will forever fall two weeks after the profound date of his death. The dates have been so emotionally intertwined, it had been difficult to get excited about my birthday. I figured it may never happen. But this year I felt differently about it. For the first time in a long time I got really excited about my birthday weekend, and the plans I'd made. I wanted to celebrate. And it felt really,

There are so many fun things to do in Chicago I'm ashamed to say I don't take advantage of what the city has to offer nearly often enough. True, winter is typically a time for Midwesterners to cocoon, and truer, Ken was the driver behind most of our excursions. Even in the weeks before he died getting out of the house was always on his mind--even if it was just to sit in the backyard to smell the fresh spring air and look at the life returning after a long winter's sleep. It'

I woke up yesterday morning to what was the twelfth anniversary of when I met Ken--when my life changed direction in the subtlest yet most dramatic of ways. I knew it was coming but as it got closer, it slipped my mind. For someone who is date-obsessed, I'm not sure how that happens. Or maybe I am. As I lay there, ensnarled in my flannel sheets and the quilt Ken's grandmother made for him for his high school graduation, I let all the memories this date invokes wash over me. I

After one week on match.com I received an email that piqued (not "peeked" as another subscriber wrote) my interests because it was funny, razor-sharp and quick. Many emails, a phone conversation, and many more texts later found me on my first "first date" since 2001. Over the past few months--since the holidays, I suppose--I've been considering what should come next in my personal life. With a rich and supportive circle of friends--most of whom are coupled--I found myself as

I was lying in bed the other night writing, Kallie stretched out beside me, her raspy, rhythmic snore keeping time with her belly as it raised and lowered. I stopped what I was doing and looked at over her, my hand resting on her side. And I thought, "this is my life." It sounded odd as I contemplated the words. It was almost a question. "This is my life?" Sometimes it's easy to forget all that has transpired over the last couple of years that changed my life so drastically f

Yesterday did't turn out at all as I expected it to. Funny how some days are just like that. The things I woke up concerned about didn't end up being anything I needed to be worried about. Nothing life changing, mind you. Just surprises. I took Kallie for a long walk early this morning. It would be the last one we'd be able to take for a while as she was scheduled for her "lady" surgery later in the day, but would spend the entire day at the vet. It's the last right of passa

I love autumn. It's my favorite season--in spite of what it is the harbinger of here in the Midwest. It's the crisp earthy smell in the air, the vibrant colors of the changing leaves, and the sound of them crunching beneath shoes (or paws). It's the time when you begin to layer, and pull out the sweaters that have lain unused since you put them away when spring warmed up. Since returning to work, I've struggled with blog topics. Having a schedule and a sense of purpose as my

Changing things around the apartment is a tricky business for me. Leaving things as they were when Ken was alive offers some kind of security--or maybe a kind of certainty that he was here--especially if it was something he'd placed himself. So, finding myself sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor at 11 pm on Tuesday night, going through all the lower kitchen cabinets was a surprise. But it was one of the several household projects I swore to get done before I return to

At a month away, June 1 is a daunting and solemn date for me and for anyone who loved Ken. It's the date he left us after such a valiant and graceful fight. Maybe someday it will be easier to "celebrate' it, as time performs her magic, and softens the jagged edges and fades the vivid pain of the last year or so. As for this June 1--I've taken matters into my own hands (probably with a little help) to find a very special way to commemorate the date. I'm taking a break from wor

I haven't been dreading this day as much as dreading it not being the kind of day I used to look forward to, but I guess that is no news to you. (You are the Universe, after all. All encompassing, omniscient, etc.) It's another reminder; a confirmation in case I forget the circumstances of my reality. Thanks again, Universe. You're the best. (Sarcasm heavily implied, but again, you know that.) Today is a special date that deserves jubilant celebrations, parades and fireworks.

Yours truly (right) with author and friend, Claire Bidwell Smith (left--and moderately preggars) Most months, the first is a sometimes glaring, sometimes dreaded number appearing in the first square of the calendar. Some months it approaches more brazenly than others. The first of this month (March) has been on my radar for a while for a couple of reasons. March 23 would have been Ken's and my 11th anniversary together, and also serves as a reminder that last year on that da

Ken always scoffed at the idea of Valentine's Day. A Hallmark Holiday, he'd call it. But the truth is, he just didn't believe it should be relegated to one day a year. He was always presenting me or surprising me with beautiful cards he designed and filled with sweet nothings. I have collected some of them, but haven't had the wherewithal to centralize all of them. A task for 'someday'. I have to say my subconscious did a superb job and constantly making me forget it was the

I have the good fortune and good genes to not be sick very often. This week I got sick. Just a cold. But a bad one for a big baby who who hasn't been sick since before Ken was rediagnosed with cancer in 2009. I wonder if maybe I have been this sick, but it was all relative and because I had so many responsibilities, it didn't matter. I had a purpose bigger than myself. I was a part of something bigger and more important. But this week I was just sick. No bigger purpose. No on

(My parents living room looks like a Christmas card, right?) I woke up early this morning--and breathed a sigh of relief. The emotional gauntlet of my first Christmas without Ken was over! I never imagined having to experience one without him after we met in 2001, and after he died in June I dreaded December and all the holidays that surrounded it. An internal clock counted down the days with deafening silence as the year drew to a close. But it was okay. Christmas wasn't jus

I spent thanksgiving in Southern California with my in-law family. As much as I was looking forward to the trip, part of me was dreading it--the "unknown" part of it. I didn't ever want to have to celebrate a holiday without Ken. I wasn't sure how it would go. And that was scary. As much as I would have liked to avoid it, the holiday--as did my trip to Cali--loomed closer every day. But the closer it came the more excited I got. Not necessarily about the holiday, but to see f

Today was another gift from Mother Nature. It was clear, sunny and warm--particularly for late October. I made a list of the tasks I wanted to complete today during the course of the week on the dry erase board hanging in the kitchen. Ken and I used it as a "vision board" of sorts to keep track of current creative projects and write down ideas for new ones. I still use it for that: blog ideas, reminders and to track the last book I read to encourage myself to read more. A sma