Anger that I did not get my Happy Ever After.

Anger that I only got eight years.

Anger that this life is really my life.

Anger that I was not there in his final moments.


Anger that I did not get to make peace with him before he died.

Anger that I didn’t tell him to come home.

Anger that the last thing I said to him was not “I Love You”

Anger that there is no second chance.


Anger that I am alone.

Anger that I can’t yell at him to go to the doctor.


Anger that widowhood means telling people that he died.

Anger that companies don’t make it easy for widows to cancel accounts.

Anger that people still say “I am sorry”

Anger that life goes on even when your world stops.


Anger at having to face the memories.

Anger at having to face giving up his things.

Anger that I can’t seem to do things that we did.

Anger that I can’t watch shows or movies we watched.


Anger that on the days that I want him, I must settle for a weighted blanket instead.

Anger that I still find myself talking to him.

Anger that I believe in Love but now I fear trying to find it.


Anger takes root and I can’t let it go.

Anger makes me want to cry.

Anger that makes me want to fight.



Anger, I live in my house that was supposed to be ours without him.

Anger that I did not get the life I wanted with the husband and the child.

Anger that I am not just grieving him but the life we could have had.

Anger that I must remind myself that this is real he is gone, and I bought the farm.


Anger is the fact that I am angry when I want to be happy.


Anger that this is not a dream.

Anger that I dream of him.

Anger that I wake up and relive my worst moment over and over.


Anger that I was told over the phone.

Anger that people blamed me.

Anger that I believed the lies my brain told me and blamed myself.

Anger that therapy never seems to work.


Anger that grief is ongoing, and I must keep having grief moments.

Anger is the part of grief that I never need to face.

Anger is the part of grief I don’t want anymore.

Anger that at the end of the day, I would do it all over again knowing how it ends.

Anger that no one understands the grief I feel but my fellow widows





Laurel became a young widow on October 2, 2020, her husband Matt had a heart attack he was only 37. Matt was a juvenile diabetic and they always knew he would die young but she never thought that she could be a widow at 32. Navigating grief with anxiety, regrets and guilt have been a struggle for Laurel. They had gotten into a fight days before he died and they had talked about divorce. One of the things that helped her the most is finding other widows who understood the pain she was feeling. In February she decided to start writing her story. Self-care is something else she started to do daily and art has become her outlet to get what she is feeling out which she shares on her Instagram. Being a young widow comes with its own challenges but we are not alone in this journey.
You can find her on Instagram @HealingPorcupine or her personal blog link-