Diary of a Widower

Daily entries by a husband, who stayed behind with his two sons

Just one of those (many) days

THURSDAY, January 21 – ‘Do you think about Mom, Eamonn?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘And what exactly do you think?’

‘Everything. But this ‘everything’ is totally blank.’

‘How about if we sit down on the couch and look at photos of Mom?’


‘Good, where shall we start?’

‘You know what,  maybe we shouldn’t do that after all.’

‘Okay, Eam. What shall we do instead?

‘I don’t know.’

‘Maybe just nothing.’


Tomorrow I’m going to let him play hooky. He’s earned it. In fact, he needs it.

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