Joan Didion died in December. Before, I’d known her as a highly-regarded journalist/author, and wife of John Gregory Dunne of the famous Dunne family (Griffin Dunne for one, who plays Nicky on This Is Us (also – and more importantly to me – Madonna’s love interest, Louden, in Who’s That Girl 😍).

But when she died, I read more about her sad life, and in true Tiffy fashion, became obsessed and started devouring anything I could of her writing.

If you’re lacking in the “not giving a fuck” department, I encourage you to study up on Joan Didion. Even if you hate reading, Google “Didion on Corvette” and one look will tell you that this woman did not give a single fuck about what people thought of her.

My dream in life is to look as cool as she did leaning up against that yellow Stingray, but alas, I’m way too goofy for that to happen. I’m considering never smiling again in photos so that I might have a modicum of her allure.

I recently listened to The Year of Magical Thinking, the book Didion wrote following the death of her husband.

It was just how I expected it to be – sad and somewhat dreamlike.

She wrote about feeling as though her husband would come back at any moment; thinking she didn’t want to throw away his shoes because he might need them.

I couldn’t understand or even fathom that thought process. Even she touched on how odd it was by acknowledging that it was surreal having her brain trick her in that way.

But like I’ve mentioned before, I have been fortunate enough to never experience true (or unnatural) loss in my life.

At the risk of sounding frivolous to those who have experienced real, heart-wrenching loss, I’m going to share how I’ve gotten a small taste of it this week.

On Saturday morning, PJ woke up feeling like crap. Usually I mock him when he says he’s sick and tell him to “buck up”. Then I make fun of him for acting like a big baby.

This time I could tell he wasn’t faking, so I drove all over town (and the next one over) to find an at-home Covid test. It was positive.

We decided it would be best for him to stay quarantined in our bedroom. At first I joked, saying it would be like a mini-vacation away from his annoying family. I figured five daysare no big deal.

I was wrong.

On day 2 I cried in the middle of my restorative yoga class (I know that sounds floofy, but it’s one of the best things I’ve discovered and do it almost every day – highly recommend it.) I was crying because in my meditative state I started thinking about how much I miss having him around.

Last night while cleaning up dinner I started welling up because even with my 3 boys, the house was too damn quiet without him. (Some will say the tears were because I was forced to cook but I swear that wasn’t the reason.)

All the times I tried to imagine life without him while he was laying next to me on the couch, shaking his foot like an annoying maniac, I never could really know what it would feel like.

Even though he’s alive (thank God and thank VACCINES!!!) and in the same house as me, I’m grieving him.

I’m crying not because I’m worried about his health – thankfully he’s been ok – but because I’m getting a dose of what it would be like without him.

I keep thinking about Joan Didion, alone in her New York apartment, the same place her beloved husband had a massive heart attack and died right in front of her.

They were just going about their evening routine. She was starting dinner, he was sitting at the counter talking to her. And just like that, he was gone.

My evening routine with PJ is very much the same, and it feels so lonely and just so wrong without him. I have such a deeper sense of what she felt now.

I consider myself a strong, independent woman – but truth be told, I’m lost without him (and I’m crying as I type this.) It makes the future, and the unknown, even more scary.

To anyone who has lost someone they loved deeply, my heart is with you. I’m not claiming to know what you experienced, but this week, I’ve dipped a toe into those dark waters and I never want to see what it feels like to go any further.

My heart breaks for anyone who has.