“How are you? How are the kids?” Seems like you can’t get away from these everyday questions. The questions that seemed ordinary and mundane take on a whole new meaning when you become a widow. They are asked with pity, sympathy, and genuine caring. Something I have come to dread and be grateful for at the same time.
You become really good at pretending. But I often wonder what would happen if I told them how I really was. Not “fine”, “ok”, or even “good.” What if I told them that I am angry, sad, lonely, and still can’t F’in believe that Jim is gone. That the kids have good days and bad days. I am heartbroken all over again when they are sad and upset. And mad that I cannot protect them from feeling this way.
It has been just over two years since Jim died and I find that the only people really comfortable talking about Jim, are the kids and I. Don’t get me wrong- both our families talk about Jim but not with the openness that comes from a child’s perspective. People often look uncomfortable when we talk about him. Especially when the kids talk about him in the present tense. (It’s ok people-believe me, we fully understand that he is gone.)
A close friend who lost his dad at a young age gave me some advice that I have held close to heart. He said, “Never stop talking about Jim with the kids. Always say his name and tell stories and share memories with them.” I remember thinking, how could we not talk about him?!?! By talking about him, he still lives on within us. Some memories don’t bring tears, they bring smiles and laughter. That we love hearing other people say his name and share a story.
This journey of grief is lifelong. I have been told that repeatedly- and I believe it, only after experiencing such a devastating loss. There is no cure for grief, you don’t get over it. You learn how to take small steps forward and sometimes a few steps back. And then you look back and suddenly it has been six months, one year, two years, etc. and you realize that life has moved forward. You haven’t moved on but you are learning little by little how to navigate your grief journey. I read this quote the other day and it made me hopeful for my continued journey. “May every sunrise hold more promise, and every sunset hold more peace.” Wishing promise and peace to everyone who needs it.
Truly a shattered existence widowhood’ and it’s consequences of how all aspects of life as used to be is deeply altered’ all relatives – friends interactions’ family social gatherings’ added financial duties’ loss of enthusiasm’ and for the younger group widows / widowers’ that extra responsibility of the solo upbringing of their school aged children and all those uninvited remarks of moving on’ The most recent by my relative was – ” You know’ life goes on ‘ you have to concentrate on your interests now’ you have to look forward to your new life now’ you’re the matriarch now’ also I’ve read that lingering in grief leads to dementia’ you have to be realistic and start taking care of yourself ” – and this just after only six months into widowhood’ where so many triggers make me emotional’ sad and tearful and so many memories of our old school’ 44 years loving couple days ‘ that are no more’ can’t be repeated’ can’t be restored make me weep profoundly’
Blessings and courage Dearest Elda’ May you be richly rewarded by your children’ enjoy them doubly for your beloved husband’ as the more realistic grieving model is the continuing bonds of loving souls’ and that grieving is unique and individual’ and there’s no time table’ no time limit’ so continue on ‘ the way you and your children find comfort in’ and as this phrase says’ -Throughout the waves God is your life jacket ‘ He’ll help you float and not sink – Only by God’s grace go I’
Laura
Thank you for your kind words and unique view! Every day is a new day and every day is a different day but we continue to move forward.