Widowoman - A Journey Into Widowhood

For over six years I have journeyed through this world of Widowhood. It is, as I have shared, a unique cultural phenomenon in our society. There are different aspects of this world that are experienced by almost all widows and some elements that are only present to some. However, for all of us, this world is a different space than the one we occupied before our husband died. In the beginning I kept this new experience to myself. From time to time I shared with a close friend or with my children but for the most part I just wandered through this new territory looking for a path that worked for me. I could not see how sharing would help. For about five years my kids have encouraged me to write about this journey and share it with others. It is not that I was opposed to sharing. It is just that I did not think that sharing would make a difference. This was my journey. What could that mean to anyone else? Why was sharing this a good idea? We human beings have a hard t

In the first weeks and months after my husband’s death it seemed like nothing was the same and nothing would ever be the same again. As it turns out, that really is true. Not everything is bad but nothing is the same. Even my work is different without him to share the victories and the challenges. However, since about the middle of the second year I was aware that there was a hole in my life that I could not fill. It was difficult to put my finger on what was missing because there was nothing wrong and yet there was just something that was not right. Obviously Ned was gone and life was different. Many, many things had changed already and I managed to get through all the “firsts” that were part of the first year as a widow. This was something different from just missing him. Of course I missed him every day – and I still do – but there was just something else that I could not identify that kind of put a damper on life every day. It wasn’t sad. It wasn’t melancholy. It wasn’t g

On today’s early segment of the Today Show the anchors commented on posts by a celebrity that she had enjoyed going out to eat alone. Everyone at the table agreed that there were times when eating alone was a real treat. No kids demanding attention. No expectations that you have to be entertaining. No noise! But there is a difference. Choosing to eat alone as a unique experience that is a “treat” is a lot different from eating alone every day because you are alone.   Most days I eat alone at home by choice. After almost seven years, cooking for myself and eating alone has become the routine. However, that was not the case right after Ned died. Of course, I ate at home alone a lot then too but there were many times when I would just go out to a restaurant to be in an environment of noise and energy. Even if I was at a table alone, the sounds of the restaurant and the people sharing meals together was comforting in an odd way. Without anyone left at home to talk to or listen to; wit

This is a difficult post to write as it is a situation that is hard for some to understand. As I have talked to a couple of people about this issue the response has been surprising. People are sometimes put off by what I have to say about this issue and others are confused that it is an issue. They are offended that I think this is a problem. Please know that my intention here is not to offend any person who has a genuine concern for others. It is to point out how an automatic “Sorry for your loss” comment can have the opposite effect than is intended.   The week after my husband died my son said to me that if one more person said they were “Sorry for your loss” he would scream. Recently at a party a widow friend heard me talking to another guest about this issue and said that when people say this to her she just wants to turn and walk away. If you are someone who makes a habit of expressing your sorrow to someone in this way, this may sound a little strange to you but there are m

Some say “A loss is a loss” but that’s not really the case. The nature of the relationship changes the nature and impact of the loss we experience. Although I have never experienced the loss of a child or a sibling, I have lost both of my parents, my grandparents – beginning with two of my Grandpas before I was seven, and my husband of 45 years. The losses, each painful and devastating in their own way, are not the same. I always knew that I had no way of knowing what a parent goes through with the loss of a child. It seems that would be the most painful, inconsolable kind of loss imaginable. One of my dearest friends lost her son to suicide and I knew just watching her and being with her that some part of her died with him – even though she dealt really powerfully with the entire thing. The love she had for her other children and her husband sustained them both during the years after his death but that pain or losing one she gave birth to never really subsided. That does not