Yesterday I woke up prepared for the worst. It was the eighth anniversary of losing Rick to lung cancer. But I realized that, as the years go by, the major events aren’t as painful as the loss of the little daily things that I miss about being with him.
I spend a few days of the year promoting my widow book series at author events, and I have the opportunity to talk to lots and lots of widows and widowers. Even years after the major grief has subsided, it seems many of us are having the most difficulty coping with the idea of spending our golden years alone after hoping and planning for all the things we were finally going to enjoy doing with our spouses. We feel cheated.
Yesterday morning, when I rolled over towards Rick’s side of the bed in the darkened room, the pillows next to me reminded me of him lying there beside me all those years of our marriage. For a brief moment, I felt like he really was still here. I read a lot (and I also have an overactive imagination), so somehow that triggered thoughts about weird things – like glitches in the matrix and alternate realities. I like to imagine that there is some other universe where he didn’t die that day, and we get to enjoy these golden years together, after all.
ALTERNATE REALITY
In some lovely other universe
I awoke today in bed
And these pillows piled next to me
Were really you, instead
And we chatted over breakfast
Then we set about our day
Both happy we’re retired now
So much time to chill and play
We planned our next vacation
To the cabin or some beach
Because our golden years are finally here
They took so long to reach
We spent all our time together
From dawn to setting sun
We laughed, we loved, we lived our lives
Until the day was done
But years ago, this very day
You took one long last breath
And my whole world seems upside down
Since coping with your death
So now and then I fantasize
The life we would have known
In that lovely other universe
Where I’m not here alone
About Katherine Billings-Palmer
On August 13, 2017, I lost the love of my life. Rick Palmer and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary one month before he died at age 63 of complications from treatments for small cell lung cancer. He was my partner and soulmate, the love I had been looking for and finally found at age 40.
Rick was a talented writer and web designer and, in 2002, we began our own web and print design business. We worked together building the business and enjoyed traveling, writing, and playing together. Our dream was to spend our golden years together doing more of the same, but in the ten months from diagnosis to death, that dream shattered.
After Rick’s death, I quickly realized that the enormity of his loss was too much for me to handle on my own, so I began grief therapy. I also began writing through my grief in a journal of feelings, thoughts, memories, and poetry. As I navigate my new life alone, I share my journey and my efforts towards creating my “new normal” on my personal blog: The Writing Widow. I’m also on Instagram, Blue Sky, and Facebook.
I've published three books about my grief journey: my poetry book, I Wanted to Grow Old With You: A Widow's First Year of Grief in Poetry, and two books of poetry and prose - A Widow's Words: Grief, Reflection, Prose, and Poetry - The First Year" and A Widow's Words, Year Two: Grief, Reflection, Prose, Poetry, and Hope."
I also published a memoir: "My Story: A Memoir in Poetry and Prose." All my books are available in ebook and print versions on Amazon.com.