Category: Widower

All posts and pages related to being a widower, and in most cases, how this relates to travel

  • Small Changes

    January 23, 2026

    A cozy living room featuring a fireplace with a glass front, a wooden shelf above it with decorative items, and a few duck figurines on the mantel. To the left, there is a modern floor lamp with three light fixtures, and a glass vase with decorative sticks on the right.

    You may be wondering why I’m leading off with a picture of a beautiful fireplace (cough, gag). More on that later. This post has nothing to do with travel, does talk a little bit about photography, but is thankfully not one of those sad stories about grief that occasionally slip out from my journal. And it does reference life as a widower. Being one, it is hard to avoid the obvious. This particular topic is just the outcome of some work I’ve been doing around the house while I’m in between trips. Five weeks to go until I head off on my single engine plane ride to Guerrero Negro and the Grey Whales. GoPro videos of whale eyeballs will soon appear.  

    After I recovered from my endless plane ride home from Antarctica, and knew I was stuck at home for a few months, I started thinking about making a few changes in the house. Jan had wanted to get different bedroom furniture, and was tired of the art work we had in most of the rooms. I agreed of course – we both shared a minimalist view on decorating, and always agreed on whatever we bought for the house (and just about everything else come to think about it). I had ordered a new platform bed for Jan, but it arrived after she passed. My bad. Mea culpa. We had already started converting some of our framed photographs to acrylic prints, and had a few new ones made as well from some of our favorite photos. 

    These two were our favorites – both were taken when we were visiting friends who have a house in Capitola – Jan and I took a walk along the beach at low tide in the late afternoon,  with our friend and her mutant Golden Retriever. I love the shot of her and our friend walking back towards the village.

    I’ve met some widows/widowers who keep their homes as a memorial for their spouse, refusing to make any changes. I understand that, but that’s not my way. I posted an AI photo on FB the other day, of my house converted to a photo gallery.

    Entrance to a photographic gallery featuring a black door with a sign that reads 'Photographic Gallery Inside', a light fixture, and a crest above the door.

    Obviously that’s not going to happen. For one thing, the HOA in Gold River will never allow that. Plus, I’d have to open up a gift shop. I do have some coffee mugs and t-shirts with my logo, but that’s just too much work, and I’m retired from all variations of that. 

    Sorry, once again, I’m getting off track.

    But, I am transforming the house into a gallery of sorts – I have so many great images from my trips this past year, and having these on the walls keeps my poor brain focused on recent, happier memories, instead of that ugly black hole that follows me around. That’s a good thing. So my office now has acrylic prints from Alaska, Antarctica and Zion National Park, along with existing prints from the Oregon coast. There will soon be one more of a big blue iceberg. 

    Cozy living room corner with a chair, a lamp, and framed nature-themed artwork on the walls.

    I also replaced a small watercolor in the niche in my lounge, with a large acrylic of one of my favorite hummingbird photos – you can get some amazing cropped photos with a 55MPS sensor.

    A close-up photograph of a hummingbird perched on a branch surrounded by vibrant red flowers and lush green foliage.

    The most significant change I’ve made is in the living room (aka the parlor). There were a number of features of this house which we both disliked, aside from the fact that it was two stories –  electric heat (a heat pump), a pool, and laminate floors. Probably a few more things as well – we were desperate for a house. A long story, some other time.  OK…I’m off track again. This particular model of Powell Home had an absurdly small fireplace, in a brick wall. The functional wood burning fireplace was replaced by a useless electric thing which change colors to amuse their grandchildren. And then there was a blank, white, brick wall. We had thought about just ripping it down and starting over, or just covering it with tile, but that was too much work. After staring at it for a while, I figured just breaking up the vast whiteness with something horizontal might help. Like a mantel. Brilliant. The house we had built in Colorado had a beautiful, large fireplace, which came mantel-less. I ordered a 6’, unstained oak mantel, and managed to stain and install it by myself. This one was only 4’, and even with having to drill into bricks, was quite easy to install. Once complete, I was quite pleased with the results (the first photo). I have an acrylic print (see below) on order which will be mounted above the mantel, and will really finish off the room. The gnome will also stay – it fits so well with the decor.

    Close-up of a weathered tree stump with visible moss and textured bark patterns.

    This room had been our hangout before Jan was diagnosed, but I’ve avoided it since she passed. The changes I’ve made sort of wiped the slate clean, and I’m now considering entertaining once again. I need to work on some other spaces now.

    I have one, very large open space in the entry way which is just screaming for a tryptic – that’s a large image, split into three separate prints.

    A high ceiling room featuring a modern chandelier and a colorful painting on the wall. Two closed white doors are visible, with a darkened room in the background.

    I have a few seascape/landscape images from Alaska and Antarctica in mind for that. I’m trying to avoid too many penguin photos….I have so many. It’s also risky filling the house with prints from my most recent trips, since I have six significant adventures coming up in 2026, and another five (so far) in 2027. I’m bound to have something interesting from Iceland, the Northern Lights, Patagonia, or a Kodiak Grizzly Bear devouring someone from my tour group. I’m going to Svalbard in 2027 – encounters with Polar Bears. So many options.

    Maybe I’ll just rotate what’s up on the walls. Or buy a second home on the coast with a lot of big, empty walls. It could happen.

    Peace.

  • Two Years Changes Everything

    January 13th, 2026

    I’d normally post this in the journal section of my site, but I am traveling, sitting at a bar in a hotel, so I figured this belongs on the travel blog. Spoiler alert – it’s not exactly a happy post.

    It’s amazing how much can change in a couple of years. This day, two years ago, my wife was struggling with both short and long term memory as the tumor continued to destroy her brain. But she worked so hard at being able to wish me a happy birthday that morning when I woke up. It meant a lot to both of us. Birthdays were always something we celebrated, usually with a good dinner and strange birthday cards. That evening, we had our usual celebration at our favorite restaurant (Southfork), and we shared the usual gigantic ice cream pie…she even ate a good chunk of it. It was a good day.

    A slice of birthday cake on a plate with 'Happy Birthday' written in chocolate syrup, topped with a lit candle and almonds.

    So today was the first where I’ve reached that unfortunate point in life, when most of the birthday wishes I get are e-mails from health care and travel companies, and from a few close friends. Please – I’m not complaining to my friends, since I did not go around telling everyone what my birth date is. No expectations there. It’s just that my parents, in-laws, brother and wife have all passed, so there is really nobody left to celebrate with. Welcome to old age.

    But, today I’m in Santa Cruz, and spent the morning photographing Elephant Seals at Ano Nuevo State Park. I’m sitting in the hotel bar, eating a pretty good burger, a vodka martini that someone else payed for, and now a nice glass of Cabernet (Daou).  Last evening, I had dinner with friends I have not seen in a long time, and talked a lot about my travels and of course, Jan. These were all good friends of hers. Tomorrow I’ll be back with the Elephant Seals, and plan to cruise around some other places on the coast, and then have dinner with a friend. Thursday I’ll spend time with another good friend of ours who I have not seen in a while, and then head back home. So it’s turning into a nice, short trip. But much like Christmas, from now on, this is a day I’m just going to ignore. There is just not much to celebrate anymore.

    Life goes on.