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	<title>Widows Support, Coaching for Widows</title>
	<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog</link>
	<description></description>
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		<title>Letting go&#8230;Again</title>
		<description><![CDATA[There is nothing like a prom to remind us that our children are growing up and most likely already have one foot out the door. I counted the months on my fingers, and realized that I have exactly 16 to teach my daughter everything that I have up until now, forgotten to tell her. You know, important things, like don't chew sugarless gum before a date because it makes you fart.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=1121</link>
			</item>
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		<title>Get Help!!!</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Isolation is bad for the heart and for the soul.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=1095</link>
			</item>
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		<title>Help for Widows. Valentines Day 2010</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I had a blind date set for tomorrow... but thankfully, when he realized that it was Valentines Day (both of us were clueless) he balked at the prospect of standing in line at the restaurant surrounded by couples gazing into each other's eyes. I am so grateful for his foresight and we are meeting today instead.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=1060</link>
			</item>
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		<title>Help for Widows &#8211; Not Knowing</title>
		<description><![CDATA[What is hard for me and I know for many of you, is that we don't have a crystal ball, we don't know what lies ahead and for women who have suffered trauma and the resulting deep sense of insecurity, we sometimes feel strongly the need to KNOW, especially, the unknowable.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=1040</link>
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		<title>A Real Man.</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I am trying to write this week&#8217;s blog with my new puppy at my feet. She demands instead, that I instead pay attention to her. I pick up one of her many balls and roll it, encouraging her to &#8220;gogettheball&#8221;. She just waits.  Instead she wants my pant leg. And since I am wearing the [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=985</link>
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		<title>The Road Test</title>
		<description><![CDATA[And I wonder, if Mike is aware, and I have no real opinion on this any more, but I do wonder, if he could think, what he would say.

It could be anything from "Good Job Mie" to "You used the car key to unscrew the glove box that wasn't even the glove box what were you thinking???"]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=954</link>
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		<title>Puppies!</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Do you remember the exhaustion you felt when your new baby was about eighteen months?  When she was waking up at 4 AM ready to play, thrilled to be alive and expecting that you were in a similar frame of mind even though you had only gotten four hours of sleep?
We have a new puppy. [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=934</link>
			</item>
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		<title>Optimism</title>
		<description><![CDATA[When life throws me a really hard ball...you might find me on a Friday night eating cheerios topped with grape jelly convinced that absolutely every other widow and widower, or maybe every human being in the whole United Sates, (no, no, the whole world) are on a fabulous date, in love, laughing it up on some moonlit ski slope, getting ready to go inside where they will link arms, snuggle up and share a snifter the Best Brandy, of course, in front of a roaring fire. And there I am, as cheerios occasionally drop to the floor, listening to NPR and getting more and more depressed over the state of the world.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=904</link>
			</item>
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		<title>Breakups</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Being widowed opens us up like open-heart surgery and exposes our core, our heart to the elements. The only good thing that I can see about this (at least today in my newly recovered state) is that we develop an almost instant access to our feelings. We feel deeply and clearly. Commercials make us cry. A beautiful sunset makes us both laugh and cry. The sight of many stars on a subzero night hurts. And love can feel both wonderful and awful.]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=874</link>
			</item>
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		<title>His Stuff. Or, Porcupine Peckers.</title>
		<description><![CDATA[I cleaned out Mike’s underwear drawer two days after the funeral. I stuffed a shopping bag full of the old, the very old, and the new. No tee shirts, no socks, just underwear. I did it in secret, afraid of my relative’s gaze. Maybe they would think I was glad the fight was over?
I was [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://www.widowsbreathe.com/blog/?p=846</link>
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