Youā€™d think that the worst part of becoming a widow is, well, the obvious: losing your husband. If and when you actually become one, though, you are forced to learn that the physical loss of the man you exchanged vows with is just the tip of the iceberg. All the really hard crap lies underneath the surface. I wish I could tell you that it can only get better from here, but I want you to hear the truth. I want to tell you the things that nobody told me on the day my husband died.

  1. People will break their promises to you.

Right now, the loss of your husband is still fresh for all who cared about him. Many friends and family members are likely telling you that you can count on them at any hour of the day. They are sending you food and flowers and gifts. They may even be coming over to do your laundry, help with dishes, or offer to spend the night to fill the silent void in your empty home. This may even go on for months, but it will gradually stop, as they settle back into their daily routines and continue to move forward with their own plans for the future. Their lives will mostly go back to normal while you are still trying to figure out what the hell ā€œnormalā€ even means without him.

Now donā€™t get me wrong – I am not saying these people donā€™t genuinely care and want to help you through your difficult time. Thereā€™s a good chance they wholeheartedly believe in the promises they are making to you and really plan to keep them, and are completely unaware of how unrealistic they actually are. While other people lost the person they worked with, saw at family gatherings, or maybe even spoke to everyday on the phone, none of their daily routines have been as directly affected as yours. You lost the person you made every decision with – from grocery lists to what to eat for dinner to career moves. Itā€™s only natural that you will feel the effects of his absence in a way that most others wonā€™t be able to relate to or understand.

The most important promise in the aftermath of your husbandā€™s death can only be made by you, to yourself: KEEP GOING. Anyone who stays along for the ride to help and support you is a bonus, but the hard work has to come from you.

  1. You will be judged – by others and by yourself.

So many opinions and unsolicited advice will be thrown at you. Youā€™ll be told youā€™re crying too much or not enough, that you need to express your feelings and yet need to keep it together, that you should sell your house because itā€™s too much to manage on your own, but that you shouldnā€™t let it go because it holds so many memories and you may regret it. Like the saying goes, ā€œDamned if you do, damned if you donā€™t.ā€ You will feel this way a lot at first. Again, most of these judgments will be what I like to call ā€œinnocently ignorantā€ because most people canā€™t even begin to understand what youā€™re going through. You will hopefully learn to tell the difference between good and bad intentions and lean on the people who have your best interest at heart.

The most important thing to remember is not to judge yourself too harshly. You didnā€™t ask for this, you donā€™t know what youā€™re doing, you will make mistakes, and you will change your mind about things.

Youā€™re HUMAN.

Be patient. Donā€™t put so much pressure on yourself. Learn to practice forgiveness early.

  1. Your relationships with people will change drastically, and some may end altogether.

Some bonds will be strengthened immensely. Others, though, will fade. Itā€™s not because anyone stopped caring. The dynamics of your relationships with people will be altered forever, and itā€™s nobodyā€™s fault. Itā€™s simply because a piece of the puzzle is now missing and the remaining pieces may not fit together the way they once did.

  1. You may feel angry with your husband at times.

I know. This sounds really harsh and completely unreasonable, right? Unless he took his own life, you may be thinking, ā€œHe didnā€™t choose this, how on Earth could I be angry with him?ā€ Iā€™ll tell you how – because grief can be insanely irrational at times.

You might feel angry that he left you.

You might feel angry that you have to deal with all the secondary losses that his death caused.

You might feel angry that you have to go through all his hoarded crap and organize all his paperwork, when youā€™d been nagging him about it for months before you even knew he was sick.

When you feel this way, I want you to try to remember something. You are not a terrible person and you are neither the first nor the last widow that will experience this.Ā Ā More importantly ā€“ Iā€™m willing to bet you arenā€™t actually angry at him, but rather, angry that you have to live without him.

  1. Time wonā€™t ā€œhealā€ this wound.

Shortly after Ralf passed away, I had a counselor tell me that it would probably take me 3 to 5 years to ā€œfullyā€ grieve my husband (ha!). Iā€™m not a mental health professional or a grief specialist, and I donā€™t have data or statistics to back my argument, but I have to tell you that I completely disagree with this statement. Iā€™m almost 3 years out and my grief has no end in sight.

Time isnā€™t healing my wound; itā€™s just showing me how to live with it. Most importantly, I am still grieving even though Iā€™ve also found new love and have rebuilt my life. Yes, you can do both simultaneously – donā€™t let anyone try to convince you that moving forward and grief must be mutually exclusive of each other.

These are the things nobody warned me about on the day I lost Ralf, and I had to learn them on my own.

On the other hand, there was one thing that I was told repeatedly and had difficulty believing. Now, I can tell you that it is absolutely true, as long as you donā€™t give up….

You are going to be okay.

About 

Maeghan Garcia is a pediatric speech-language pathologist. She has worked in a variety of settings, including private clinics, hospitals, outpatient centers, and schools. She started writing about her journey through grief in 2015, after the sudden and tragic loss of her late husband to brain cancer. He passed away just 10 days after his tumor was first detected, while Maeghan was seven months pregnant with their first and only child together. She currently reaches others who are grieving or seeking inspiration through her blog at alongthebrokenroad.com and other social media accounts. She aspires to write a book about her grief journey soon.