This blog is about the book launch for my new book, “Waking Up to the Life Left in Me”, as well as a sample of what’s inside—one piece from each of the four sections: essay, grief, growth, and greenlighting.

Book Launch Video

I’ve included the lovely reviews from my beta readers.


Lyn presents us with the broad landscape of her grief at losing her soulmate—it is a vibrant tapestry of love, loss and learning how to start anew. Although the beautiful prose and poems contain deep and raw sorrow, my overall sense after reading this book was one of true hope and the joys of relishing the small but beautiful nuances of everyday existence. Angela Reeves, beta reader.

Lyn is a talented writer of both poetry and prose. Although poetry is not my go-to reading, I found this easy to understand. Her poems and essays show her journey through grief and getting back to living. It tugs at the heart. Linda Whitelock, beta reader

Lyn has translated her journey into lovely poetry and prose. Her journey is filled with love and laughter, sorrow and joy, and all the nuances in between. I invite you to spend some time with her journey, your life will be enriched. Rebecca Evans, beta reader

Lyn, you are a talented writer and poet, drawing us into your life and journey of grief. From your deep sorrow to living with hope, I was walking beside you along the way. An honour to read your story and poems. Maria Belanic, beta reader

Heartfelt Thanks to my Husband

Today, December 31, 2018, is the end of the second calendar year without my darling Norman. He and I were complete unto ourselves. Third time’s the charm, they say. For me, this turned out to be true. When we met, I was thirty-six years old and ten years sober. I’d just gotten custody of my two teenage children. He had just gotten custody of his daughter.

I’d been through a lot in my life—incest, rape, miscarriages, illnesses, two divorces, addiction, and alcoholism. He was a breath of fresh air—forthright, open, understanding, and loving. We hit it off and had twenty-nine wonderful years together. After what I’d been through, it felt like a reward to be with him. He was the best person I’d ever met.

He showed me that a man could be supportive, nurturing, and kind-hearted. He introduced me to the world beyond my hometown. We travelled, and I loved it. Due to my illnesses, we bought an RV so that I had everything I needed right at hand. We brought our miniature black poodle along, and off we went on some real adventures.

He was my happiness. But even though he’s gone now, I get to keep this happiness that moved into my heart, as our life grew together and mended some of the holes and vacant places within me.

He was my stability, and I got to keep my independence, self-respect, and self-worth. I learned that even though I was in love with someone, I didn’t have to give up parts of myself. I didn’t need to compromise myself. When he died, I was allowed to carry the love he had developed in his life forward into the world, as I share his story with others.

He believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. Since he died, I’ve painted abstracts with gusto to allay the deep grief I felt. In 2017, I painted 83 paintings and by the end of the year, sixteen pieces of my art hung in galleries, and some of my jewelry was in a gift store. At the Coquitlam Art Show in November 2021, I gave away 59 pieces of the art I created.

In 2018, I took the book I wrote in 2002 out of the mothballs and found a publishing company. My book, “Fragments of a Shattered Soul Made Whole: a memoir” was just released on the second anniversary of his death 26November2018. This is the best thing that happened to me this year. I have my book in my hands and have put many of them into libraries and given away several to friends. It’s a wonderful feeling. I hope it helps a lot of people. While I was at the Coquitlam Art Show, I donated four of these books to their lending library and a few days later, I left three at the Glen Pine Seniors’ Centre.

I wouldn’t be where I am without Norm. He encouraged me to go as far as I could with whatever project I was working on. And now, I have the courage to go the rest of the way on my own.

Widow’s Lament

I’m at a loss here, folks. What do I do with—

the other side of the dining room table,

the placemat, and the mug rug?

What about the crib board in between?

And there’s a spare couch across from mine—

long and beautiful in its raspberry red coat

with his pillows set up just the way he liked them—

what do I do with that?

What do I do with the empty loveseat beside me?

I still sit on my half, but I reach out

and I can’t find his hand.

He doesn’t lean over to kiss my shoulder.

What do I do with the chair across from me

in the healing room where we sat

and played drums and didgeridoo,

and talked about energy healing and spiritual work?

And what do I do with the other

side of the bed?

Right now, it has a bunch of

pillows stacked upon it,

but it’s too vast and empty for my heart.

And the snore is missing.

Sometimes I just sit and cry because

I don’t know what to do.

I keep finding spare spaces

crowded with memories

of you.

I am not a Warrior

I’m not a warrior

I do not slay

I’m in adventurer

I love to play

You can’t keep me down

for very long

I seem to bounce back

I want to be strong

I’ve shovelled the snow

and moved around plants

and dealt with gazebo

when it wanted to dance

I tackle the tiny

like feeding the cat

and then I go out

and search for the rat

that is making the stink

that is smelled near and far

I’m going to capture it

in a large jar

I chase after water

heading off to front door

I jump up-and-down

to repair the warped floor

I’ve unplugged the toilet

and unplugged the sink

And rearranged furniture

oh, let me think

The garbage and recycle

it never ends

And now they want, too,

the green veggie ends

Bought miniature helpers

like slicer and grill

And some new plants

to sit on the sill

Have painted some pictures

and played a few songs

and written some chapters

that weren’t very long

Though life without Norman

is not very easy

I’m moving forward

and I’m keeping busy


Tucked away deep

inside of my heart

where not even death

can pull us apart

my true love lays warm

all snug and curled

while I make my way

alone in the world

If more love comes to me

I’ll open my heart

and make myself ready

to have a new start

for love is an action

without any end

my lone heart is ready

to make an amend

I’ll just keep working

on that which I love

I’ll write   I’ll paint feelings  

sing songs that will move

If that day comes

when someone is there

I’ll be grateful I’m given

a new heart to wear

Have a beautiful day and wake up to the life left in you.

Love Lyn

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s