Since I DVR everything I watch, it's rare that I catch a commercial--which is why I'm so out of touch on pretty much everything. But the other day I was distracted while watching the boob tube and forgot to fast forward through the commercials. There was an advertisement for the movie " 50/50 " with that kid--who is hardly a kid anymore--from "3rd Rock from the Sun" and Seth Rogan (who I have a comedic crush on). When I realized the movie's description was encapsulated as a

It's impossible to no think of Ken…period. But as his September 21 birthday approaches, he's on my mind more and more. It's not all sad, in fact, thinking about this weekend one year ago brings nothing but a smile to my face. I'd arranged for a couple of surprises. We were both working full days at home at the time because he was receiving daily radiation treatments. As 5 pm loomed closer, I became more and more excited. After work, we always headed out to the backyard for co

Last week I decided to bake some cupcakes and take them to the staff at Creticos Cancer Center, where Ken received his treatments and we were constantly as dazzled by the tenderness and humor we found there as they were by Ken's positive attitude and undeterred sprit. I hadn't seen any of them since I was there with Ken and his folks for a social visit in April. I'd been there to see my therapist once since he died, but wasn't up for a round robin of visiting everyone. I'd pl

As I've written before since Ken died, "firsts" are difficult--both figuratively and literally. It was June 1st when Ken left us. Today marks the three month anniversary of losing a man who brought a texture, depth, dimension and a sense of play to my life that will forever be unmatched. My head knows those things didn't leave with him, but my heart has very different and stubborn opinions about that. I couldn't help but think of him today--and thinking about the day when I l

I have always loved the idea of sitting at a coffee shop and clicking away on the keys of my Mac to some stunningly witty piece I was working on, but in truth sitting alone has never held much fascination for me. Alone at home is one thing. Alone in public has always been quite another. Same with restaurants and movies. I've still yet to see a movie alone, but is still something I hope to accomplish. The lure of writing outside the house is just that--to get away from the sa

Last year after Ken had surgery and was recovering from 12 weeks of chemo, we were optimistic about the future. So much so, I decided to write a book, documenting everything he and I had gone through. As a chronic journaler who keeps a detailed calendar and diary, I had plenty to draw upon. I began pounding away at the keyboard in the evenings--sometimes in my office if he was sleeping--and sometimes sitting on the couch with him in the living room as we watched TV and talked

I have to admit while I was walking up Lincoln Avenue to the Tiny Lounge last evening I had butterflies in my stomach and was filled with a medley of feelings that ran the gamut. I was excited to see Claire--like "date" kind of excited, perhaps not knowing what to fully expect or maybe expecting too much. But the grin on my face and the fast pace of my step reminded me to let everything else go and love the anticipation of seeing a good friend. I first met Claire Bidwell Smi

Like most small town kids, I had a 25" console television in my bedroom when I was growing up. I was a shy, introvert who spent hours alone, entertaining myself. But no matter what I was doing, the boob tube was on, beckoning me into one zany adventure after another. I made many friends in the land of make believe. At the top of my list are two people: Steve Austin and Jaime Sommers. Jaime (yes, that's how she spelled it) was one of my closest childhood friends. Steve Austin

This time last year Ken and I were spending a lot of time with his amazing prosthetist David and his team at Scheck & Siress at UIC. David created built the most mind-blowing prosthetic leg for Ken and after multiple fittings Ken was rocking it like--well, like only Ken could. ( Click here for video . Both "high fives" are with David.) Two people who worked on David's team had leg prosthetics themselves which helped create a secure and supportive environment. Going there for

I received a cheeky text from my friend Samara earlier this week that began "Ronny, Ronny, how does your garden grow..." to check in with me. But it presented a big, daunting question: how does my garden grow? After enjoying many hours with friends and family in recent weeks, sitting in the backyard, the answer was "it grows out of control with weeds." Even the herbs, planted in pots looked a little singed after so many hot days and ne'ery a thought of watering them until I

When you're truly happy in your life, and loving it, that's when things get even better--at least in my experience. I'd spent my twenties dating unsuccessfully and lamenting the fact I didn't have a boyfriend. It became my "schtick." Most all of my friends were coupled, and making fun of my singleness became my way of coping with it. When I turned thirty I opened myself up to meeting someone online--the advent of computer dating. What followed were a string of disastrous--alb

Today didn't suck en total. It was my first day back to work with the soiree just a jumble of warm and loving memories. That part feels good, right and fitting. But getting back into what used to be my old schedule feels...meaningless. Ken provided meaning, support and context in my life. I had a moment at work today where I thought to text him to check on him--as we always did. That a slow burn, realizing he wasn't there t receive them. Investing in someone so completely is

Today felt like the beginning...of something. With Ken's Memorial Soiree a jumble of fond memories and feelings, today the remnants of my out-of-state family left to return to their lives in California. There was nothing standing between me and my future. It was a good day overall. Cleaning, laundry and prepping for heading back to work per a traditional work schedule tomorrow. But it was also a bit...paralyzing. I've learned to just keep putting one foot in front of the othe

Yesterday was the Memorial soirée for Ken--my partner, husband and friend of 10 years. The day and the event can only be described as "perfect." It went off exactly as it was supposed to and was exactly what I expected, hoped for and needed in order to feel a sense of closure and to gain some perspective to figure out what my life's road map will start to look like. I was honored to have so many close friends and family attend, and even more honored to have so many dear ones

I have been keeping myself very busy lately. Lots of organizing and straightening up "common" areas. Places I never looked at twice because either I knew Ken would tend lovingly to them, or after he was sick I didn't have the time or wherewithal to focus on. It's being in these places that were last arranged by his expert hands that I've had some odd experiences. I've had moments of crystalline clarity when somehow everything that's happened "makes sense"; where I feel so emp

Today is my birthday. I knew it would be difficult--for multiple reasons. Acknowledging--let alone celebrating--my birth when I so recently lost Ken didn't hold much interest for me. Aside from that, and even more importantly, Ken always made my birthday special--just by being himself. Whether he pulled out all the stops for my 40th birthday in 2008 with tons of gasp-inducing surprises or whether we just sat in the back yard, sipping martinis and talked and (inevitably) laugh

I returned to work yesterday. It was a daunting feat, but a necessary one. I'd submerged myself in alone-time last week to ensure I could feel the full gamut of emotions I needed to feel. I gave them their due. I kept busy but allowed myself moments/hours to feel what I felt. But by Sunday I was ready to go back to work—or at least be “out and among.” To be busy and distracted and productive sounded like a wonderful idea. And it was. A couple of well-wishers stopped by my des

Yesterday I decided I bake an apple pie. Simple enough, right? But never having done so before I felt like it would be a fun challenge--no matter how it turned out. Worse case scenario I'd just pitch it and learn from my mistakes. (a "what if...?" mindset workaround.) When I went to Jewel to buy some Granny Smith apples I couldn't find the sheets of pre-made pie dough anywhere. "I'll make it myself," I thought as I ran down all the ingredients involved, knowing I had them all

As a two-time amputee Ken was intimately familiar with the loss of a limb. He often told a story from college when he stood up while not wearing his prosthetic to grab a book off the shelf and forgetting he wasn't wearing his leg, took a step to walk across the room rather than sit back down. As he thrust his weight forward to walk and realized there was nothing there to support him, he laughed while he fell, experiencing confusion and dismay that he found himself in this pre

I have struggled with words (among many other things) this week since the loss of my husband and best friend Ken. As someone who is accustomed to documenting my feelings, it's been uncomfortable to be unable to access my "writing voice." Clearly, I'm bereft. And aside from a loss of words at a loss in every way possible--except in that I've been bathed in love and support from the Three Families: my Birth Family, my Married Family, and my Chosen Family. But as I was talking