This treacherous pilgrimage between my old life and my future often amplifies the depth of alone. Sometimes I find myself drifting on wreckage all alone in the middle of an ocean with no land in sight. Sometimes it feels like I’m on an endless walking bridge between two mountains over a bottomless cavern. Alone gets wrapped in grief and grows in intensity. It moves in and invites fear, anxiety, sadness, insecurity, and a myriad of other emotions to join the vicious cycle.
The reminders we are alone now come in so many shapes and sizes. It could be a memory triggered, a date on the calendar, or finding yourself needing to do a job that was always “his” job. Maybe you woke up from a dream with him in it… or without him in it. Activities once enjoyed that were geared for couples now sting the heart. When my computer acts up, I want to ask him for help.
Widowhood impacts each of us in unique ways. I spent most of my life in union with my husband. He was my best friend, confidant, partner, back-up, and trusted companion. Our life revolved around what we wanted to do. We did nearly everything together. We chose to do this. We loved doing things together. Our partnership in life was special and we treasured it. Somehow losing that close companion intensifies the feeling of being alone. It hovers as a constant reminder.
Making conversation and engaging in groups of people was my husband’s gift. He put people at ease and was very comfortable interacting on almost any topic of conversation. His love for people immediately helped them relax and open up. I was the opposite. I’m a classic introvert. I like to listen more than talk. I’m far more comfortable in one-on-one conversation. I’ve always been described as a great listener. Being in group settings by myself makes me feel very self-conscious. When he was at my side, I relaxed and knew he had my back if I said something awkward or was unsure how to respond. I think this is one of the hardest things I deal with now without him.
The impact of becoming a widow on my relationships is something I never anticipated. I read about it in grief books before he went home, but I was sure my family and friends would still be there, and I thought I could count on them. They told me over and over they would be there for me. Most of them were there for me during his long illness. The deterioration of relationships in both family members and friends since his death has been incredibly difficult. It hurt me deeply some people just disappeared from my life, and some relationships turned uncomfortable. I’m not the same person I was before, and I try to remember neither are they. This reality adds to the depth of feeling alone… feeling abandoned… when I find myself needing the right kind of support more than ever before.
Are you feeling alone or lonely today? Loneliness is a part of everyone’s life to some degree or another. Learning to respond to it in a way that will bring healing and hope will lessen its power over us. This quote from Tennessee Williams reveals one way we can find a redemptive quality for this unwelcome guest.
”Everything that is tearing us down today will becom
e a memory, and this memory will be shared as an anecdote or a story or a poem or a play or a warning. It will be shared with another human being, who will then understand that he is not alone in his sadness. This is why we show up for others and tell our tales and listen to others. The great congregation meets daily, and you are someone’s angel today.” – Tennessee Williams
Stories shared by brave widows painting word pictures and honestly expressing the chaos of emotions mixed with the brutal reality of facing and dealing with all the day to day activities, schedules and people, helps me see my situation is not as unique and I’m not as alone as I feel. While I don’t want others to suffer, I learn others found a way through and there is hope.
This is my first blog post for the Hope for Widows Foundation. I appreciate the opportunity to share my heart with fellow widows. I pray as I share my story and thoughts it will not only bring healing to my broken heart, but will stir a measure of hope and healing in my hope sisters hearts. None of us chose to walk this way in life, but together we can find the strength and courage to take that next breath or next step.
About Teri Miner
Teri’s dance with grief actually began over five years before she watched her beloved husband of almost 37 years take his last breath and enter Heaven’s door on October 6, 2019. A terminal degenerative neurological disease steadily and increasingly attacked nearly every major system of his body and transformed him from a vibrant, brilliant, strong and caring man to a bedfast invalid at the end. She was devoted to caring for him and doing her best to make the most of every minute they had left, to love him and pray for a miracle.
She thought she knew what her future held, but she had no idea. Losing him was the first time she experienced a close and personal loss. He was the love of her life. The onslaught of the pandemic with its reign of fear-mongering, forced isolation and separation entering the scene and disrupting or destroying whatever sense of “normal” that remained, just added insult to injury.
Her faith in God is the sustaining force keeping her fighting spirit to find and share hope in a bright future. Her heart’s desire is to walk beside her fellow widows toward a path of promise and healing. She wants to offer encouragement and hope so others can find the strength to take that next breath or next step. She recently started her own blog, https://widowwhispers.blogspot.com/, to share with other widows not only the struggles and hardships of widowhood, but the triumphs. Her hope is found in leaning on the Lord Jesus to enjoy a God inspired future anchored in expectation He will bring us to a fulfilling and meaningful life.
These words completely describe how I feel. Thank you for writing them. It’s been 10 months, almost 11, since my husband passed away unexpectedly. I can relate to your sentiments exactly.
I can relate to your post: my Bob was my everything – I married him when I was 17 (he was 24); I fell in love with Bob when i was 10 years old. When we finally met face to face, 7 years later I did not hesitate to join my life with his. We were married for 44 years. I have been a widow since December 14th, 2018 – if I didn’t have God in my life, I doubt I would have made it through those horrible days of loss/abandonment/legal hurdles/confusion of where I “fit in-don’t fit in”/reflection on life’s purpose, ect. The first 12 months were a widow’s brain blur. The next 24 months were getting better: I didn’t cry every day – the aloneness wasn’t so raw anymore. I would like to tell you that living with widowhood gets easier … but that wouldn’t be truth. Time does soften the edges, but it never gets easy – it just gets different. You learn how to walk alone with confidence. You learn to build a new life that pulls on the strengths of your old life, while allowing flexability to grow with your new life.
Thank you for sharing your story. This tumultuous transition from the life we knew when we had our beloved husbands to hold us, to this uncertain and confusing future is so difficult. Yet we KNOW God is faithful and will see us through the fog and chaos. I have no idea how our sister widows possibly get through this without hanging on to God and trusting His faithfulness. The rawness is softening and I’m actually able to laugh out loud once in a while. Like a caterpillar that needs to encase in a cocoon for a season in order to transform into a butterfly, I find myself slowly but surely making progress. God bless you.