Allowing myself to be happy, after the death of my husband, always felt a little like betrayal.
It felt like I was shouting from the highest peaks that life without him was enjoyable, like I didn’t care that he had died, or like I had forgotten about it or something. So – happiness – that was not allowed. It dishonored my husband’s life. It didn’t portray how horribly I missed him. It didn’t match my grief.
I hadn’t consciously decided to deny myself happiness, but in my endeavors to honor my husband – happiness felt inappropriate, so I was stunned when my therapist asked about it.
“What do you do for fun?” She asked.
Fun… I listed off several things that involved goals of mine, but then she clarified. “You know, something that doesn’t necessarily achieve any specific goal, but it brings you a lot of joy.”
Speechless is the perfect word. I was speechless. I sat on it for two weeks. Everything in my life was wrapped around loving my family, trusting God, advancing my career, managing my finances, and maintaining my physical health. But joy and happiness?
I’m trying to hold my life together, be strong and independent. I don’t have time to stop and smell the proverbial roses. That’s only for fairytales.
I actually scoffed at the notion. Nevertheless, my therapist had urged me to find something that gave me joy, so – I started thinking.
My mother had mailed me a gift card for Home Goods to celebrate my 47th birthday, so I thought I might start there. It sounded easy enough. Off I went. I parked, grabbed a cart, and fast walked every aisle in ten minutes, all the while growing agitated at the other shoppers who were buying things they didn’t need and wasting time meandering through a store full of trinkets and lamps and kitchen gadgets!
Then, somehow, this triggered my grief, so I had to leave because I didn’t want anyone to see the tears. On the way home, my thoughts were everywhere.
Why didn’t I enjoy that? The store was cool, Sonney! It was like Target on steroids! Why am I this upset? Why was I mad at the other shoppers for enjoying themselves?
I mean, I run errands all the time, but only when something important runs out or breaks; I go to Target when I need toothpaste or a phone charger because my other one stopped working. I don’t just “go to Target” to “see what I can see,” not anymore, not since Jay died.
I’m not saying I haven’t experienced any joy or happiness since Jay passed, because I have. My grandson and granddaughter came into the world. My oldest daughter earned her associates, started her bachelor’s, and got married. My son graduated with his bachelor’s, and my youngest daughter got accepted to a university and began her academic journey. All these things brought me immense levels of joy. What I am talking about here is the act of denying myself my own little forms of happiness.
For example, as of last week, I still hadn’t unpacked everything despite moving to my new place over two years ago. My house held the essentials (beds, dressers, nightstands, televisions) but the walls were bare, and many of my books (Books make me happy!!) were still packed. The genres I chose to read had changed as well; I only read to learn and had stopped reading to simply enjoy a good book. On the personal side, I didn’t really have a clothing style anymore. I just bought whatever was on sale or seemed practical. I styled my hair only when I was going to work.
Do I even know who I am right now? Is this normal? Do grieving people do this, or am I broken?
Turns out – it is completely normal to feel like happiness and joy are not appropriate, not allowed after someone has passed away. It’s normal to perceive happiness and joy as forms of betrayal against a loved one who is no longer here.
Together, my therapist and I talked about a few things I could do to start allowing a little happiness into my world.
For example, this week I unpacked the rest of my boxes and finally set up my office with my desk and bookshelves. And my daughter, Liz, and I went to Home Goods together. We spent almost two hours combing through all the aisles. The goal was to buy something we didn’t actually need. She had her own gift card from Grandma Penny because her birthday is a few days after mine, and together we figured out how to spend every last cent of those gift cards. Thanks, Momma. I bought a cute candle, a decorative pillow, a pretty jar, and a flower vase that made me smile. When we got home, I spent a couple of hours hanging things on the walls, and Lizzy helped me decorate the office.
So, there it is. Happiness is allowed. And I’m curious – what are you doing to let happiness and joy have a place in your grief journey? And also – How insane was that sentence?!?! I might need to write that on a piece of paper and pin it to my office wall: “What are you doing to let happiness and joy have a place in your grief journey?”
About Sonney Wolfe
Sonney Wolfe is a writer, educator, mother, nona (grandma), and widow. She holds a Master of Arts in English, teaches academic and professional writing for the University of Maryland, and writes features, press releases, blog posts, and personal essays for various news and social media.
Widowed in December of 2019, she soon joined the masses in COVID lockdowns, which deepened her understanding of grief as she witnessed widespread loss, especially among students. Now, she integrates grief support in her college classrooms by addressing pandemic disruptions, community loss, and mental health challenges. Her autobiographical teaching philosophy, born from her own grief journey, provides a platform to share her experiences and support students who have also lost loved ones.
In her professional writing, she sheds light on the human experience of loss and grief, particularly for widows. She explores the complex societal shift they face, transitioning from wives to widows and often single parents. This sudden change forces widows to navigate not only grief, but also a landslide of challenges: income loss, economic strain, relocation, career shifts, altered healthcare needs, and declining mental health.
Her Blog WIM Dispatches (Woman in Motion), https://sonneywolfe.com, chronicles her personal grief journey and advocates for the needs of widows, along with her IG: @WIM_Dispatches – and Facebook page: WIM Dispatches Life After Jay.