RosePhil always brought me a dozen roses on Valentine’s Day. Brought. They weren’t delivered. He thought that was too extravagant. Every Valentine’s Day he would stop by the grocery store on his way home and pick up a dozen roses. I’d make dinner. We’d exchange cards and have a romantic evening at home.

The first Valentine’s Day after he passed Read the rest of this entry »

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Listening to Bruno Mars sing about the “same bed” feeling a “little bit bigger now” and the heart breaking a little “every time I hear your name” I think about my first Valentine’s Day as a widow. Read the rest of this entry »