Well, not really, but I believe my meaning is clear.
It’s a lonely dark word that we – as a culture – don’t like or know what to do with. It’s like the proverbial bad penny.
Nevertheless, I suddenly found this word thrust upon me, attaching itself firmly to my person. I would henceforth be identified as “Widow.” But the word itself felt wrong, and it formed awkwardly in my mouth when I’d try to speak it. I did not feel like what I understood this word to mean.
Everyone around me could see it, too. They saw the dark cloud descend around me – a shroud of sadness and gloom. Was this the end of the person they once knew?
They held all the expectations culturally associated with this word. They expected that I would be sad and wear black for a while, and that I would need space, probably about a year or so, to sort things out. After that I would be back to my normal self again, and then we could pick up where we left off.
They responded to these expectations rather than to me. They spoke softly with well-chosen words, careful not to upset me or, heaven forbid, make me cry. They didn’t want to say or do something that would remind me of this thing I now was. Like I could forget. They went back to their lives and to their husbands, and allowed me space to learn how to be alone, just like our culture expects of them.
They seemed to watch from a distance, curiously waiting to see what would happen to me now, as if I was at the mercy of my situation.
Sadly, I get it – who really wants to be around all that gloomy awkwardness? I certainly don’t.
So I decided to toss that old bad penny.
I refused to let a word – that word – shape me, to decide who I am to become after the trauma of losing my soul mate. Like an ugly old t-shirt, I will alter it; I will make it fit me. I get to decide what Widow looks like on me.
At first Widow looked like Student. I went back to college full time, surrounded by my juniors who were full of life and hope. I witnessed the continuance of life.
After that, Widow looked like Entrepreneur. I started sewing again, and I made myself a quilt from some of Rod’s (many) t-shirts. I thought there might be other widows who would appreciate such a gift for themselves, so I opened up an online store. I rediscovered creativity and productivity.
Today Widow looks like Writer. Life is made up of stories, and every story is important – even mine. I am discovering my unique place in the universe.
What will Widow look like for me next? I can’t say. But I do know it will continue to change and evolve as time moves forward. And I will continue to choose what Widow looks like on me.
I’m proud of my title. It reminds me I fulfilled my comittment.
That’s a great perspective. Thanks for sharing!
And more power to you – you own it, girlfriend!
Thanks for sharing Gail. I am having trouble reinventing myself. I feel lost and alone. Any suggestions that might spark an idea in me?
Perhaps think of it as rediscovering yourself rather than reinventing yourself …
Are there any hobbies, activities, or the like that you enjoyed when you were younger, either before you were married or early on in your marriage? I learned how to sew and crochet as a little girl, and did both off and on throughout my life. Having not done either in a number of years, I picked them both back up after Rod died and was reminded how much I enjoyed these activities.
I also enjoyed scrapbooking and other paper crafts; this could have been (and might still be) another option for rediscovery.
Maybe you danced, played a musical instrument, or were a thespian back in the day. Many city recreation centers offer adult classes month to month, or over a 6 week period, and you could take back up. If it doesn’t hold the same appeal, you switch gears and try something else.
If you are a list person, take some time to write out some of the things you remember enjoying in the past or have always wanted to do. Evaluate each item on the list, consider it’s feasibility (cost, time, age, etc.), see if one stands out to you, and consider giving it a try.
Know that you are not locked into any of them, and you are free to try a different one if the first one doesn’t work out. Give yourself permission to change your mind. As I moved from thing to thing, I couldn’t help but feel a little flakey, but I came to realize that that’s ok. It’s a process, and it’ll take some time. You got this. I believe in you!
Thank you for sharing your journey! So inspiring to a fellow widow who is also reinventing herself! We have to change other’s minds about what a widow is and can be! You’ve got this! Rock on!
And I believe we can! You go, girl!