Sometimes, as a not too recent widow, it has become harder to find people willing to listen. To locate a compassionate, willing ear. Someone who is just available to hear me rehearse past hurts and relive my experiences on this 9-year grief journey.
As humans, we have the unique ability to communicate in ways that other animals on earth do not. I’m not trying to get in a debate about if animals can hear as well as humans can or if a dog has better senses to observe the world. It’s just that humans are special.
One thing scripture tells us is that when God created man/woman, He created us higher than all other forms of life. (Gen 1:27) Some of the unique attributes of humans is the ability to communicate (talk), show love, have dominion over the earth and worship our creator. The need to communicate (however that manifests) is central to being human.
In the bible there’s many scriptures of Jesus bringing people to “the table” to break bread together and fellowship. Eating together is often a way to communicate with others and allows for a full expression of emotions while feasting on nourishment. Even today, we make plans which involve having dinners or lunches with others to make time to fellowship with our friends or family members. While the conversations can be uplifting and fun, sometimes the conversations bring out the deepest, inmost hurts and pains we need to share with another human. Those expressions are emotional and personal on a deep level of life.
It’s not a coincidence that many new homes or renovated kitchens focus on the counters with seats or a kitchen isle, a place where people gather. It often becomes the center of the room where people drop off food, or people sit around talking, laughing and even crying. We all need a “hub” to share intimate conversations that allow us the opportunities to unload our burdens and sorrows.
Being at “the table” is one of the foremost missed activity a widow will experience. The dining experience- translates to a current lonely state of affairs. Where I used to grocery shop for him and our family, I have now learned to shop for just my daughter and me. Weekly menus don’t include him anymore and my food bill has decreased and changed. The food I cook is different now and I miss talking to him about what to eat and even where to eat. I mostly eat alone now. And it is seldom at a table. The eating experience has changed and it’s a solo experience.
When I go out with the few friends I have left, if they are widows, we have lots to discuss. The shared pains and grief can make a meal into something deep and dark, or it can be full of laughter while remembering our husbands and fond memories. Sometimes we just eat in silence, remembering experiences shared around food. When I dine with other widows, I’m often the widow with the longest grief journey, so I yield the conversation to my dining friend to allow her the opportunity to share. I know and understand there’s not many people who want to hear about the grief journey and it can make for a solidary, exclusive time. They need to speak their grief and pain and need good, solid listeners. No matter is they are recently widowed or for many years on this journey- everyone needs to be heard and appreciated.
God knew we, as widows would need to communicate and share our burdens, financial challenges, intimacy issues and even poor health situations with whoever “has an ear to hear”. While good listeners are scarce, remember when people don’t ask you out to eat it’s because they themselves feel inadequate and not prepared to handle grief. It’s not that they don’t care, they just haven’t been trained on how to support grievers. The natural tendency is to avoid what makes us uncomfortable. Being with a grieving, sad widow can be very uncomfortable and often reminds others of their own personal pain. So, pick your conversationist wisely. Don’t share your pain with those who aren’t willing to “bear your burdens”.
The power of communicating around the table isn’t for the weak at heart. We need to be ready to help those who need support and lift each other up when needed. I look for opportunities to “break bread” with other widows, and welcome the bond built and the tears shared. I know it’s what Jesus would want- at the table.
About Ajai Blue-Saunders
Ajai Blue-Saunders is a servant leader and works for a nonprofit in the Richmond VA area. She is always seeking ways to encourage and serve others, even while experiencing the sudden death of her husband in 2015. Her work experience includes project development, herbalist, management, supervision and overseeing several companies and nonprofits.
Ajai has a heart for the disability community and serves on many local and national boards. She currently is solo parenting an artistic adult daughter with disabilitiies and together they are navigating this life with faith and love. She currently runs a widow's support group that meets monthly sponsored by a local funeral home which provides a safe place for widows to experience their grief journey with love and compassion.
Thank you for this. Mealtime is not at all what it once was. It’s my son, daughter, and me. My husband passed away unexpectedly and he was always planning something festive with food. He loved to look forward to sharing a meal the four of us together. It’s not the same at all.
Thx you. You too understand the loneliness around food. It’s just my adult daughter and I and she rarely eats what I cook so mostly it’s just me.