Writing

In this obituary you will meet Jerry McGinn: a Renaissance man with a twinkle in his eye, a quip at the ready, and a gift for building community—one glass, one laugh, one moment at a time. In honoring Jerry's life, I found not only my voice—but the heart of a story that keeps unfolding.

What happens when caregiving pushes you past your breaking point? After a near meltdown at work, I realized stress was rewiring my brain — and not in a good way. Meditation, mindfulness, and support groups helped me slowly rebuild. This essay shares how I reclaimed my well-being, one breath at a time.

Some clubs have membership fees. Others have initiations. The Widows Club has only one requirement—one I never wanted to meet.

I’ve been in the Widows Club long enough that grief bombs no longer sink me. I can navigate triggers that sneak up in odd places—like while getting my taxes done. Now, they’re more like a tug on my heart, a quiet awareness of the difference between then and now. The sadness remains, but now it’s laced with gratitude—and even humor.

Two hummingbirds became my daily companions in the final season of my husband’s life—tiny flashes of beauty amid the ache of letting go.
What began as a fragile superstition became a doorway to presence, to trust, and to a deeper way of being with both love and loss.