Widowhood is on my mind lately because of so many friends and family members who are dealing with learning to live a new normal. I watch them and hurt for them. I notice how they handle it differently. I listen to them. And I’ve learned some universal truths.
First, widowhood is no respecter of age. It can happen to anyone at any time.
Second, the nights are the worst for most. They can keep busy during the daytime hours, but the evenings can seem long and lonely. Eating alone, whether at home or in a restaurant, is a struggle.
Third, triggers can generate sadness even years after the loss of a spouse. Finding a cup I the back of the cabinet that your loved one used for coffee. Feeling like the odd one out in gatherings consisting of couples. Feeling left out when former couple friends do not include you in their activities. Yet if you go, the fifth-wheel feeling dampens the enjoyment.
Those are the key commonalities I’ve noticed. But here are the differences in coping I’ve observed.
Some isolate. They don’t want to be around others.
Some throw themselves into service for others. They fill their days with helping those who need assistance with transportation, health issues, and doing anything they can to take their minds off their alone state.
Some date again. Quickly. They’re not going to live life alone, no matter how much they loved their spouse, and they are looking for someone else to fill that empty chair at the table and that empty side of the bed.
Some read books about widowhood, attend support group meetings, or reach out to others in the same situation. Many read the Bible or other religious books to find solace and healing.
Younger widows devote themselves to their children. They put their children’s needs first and focus on building a happy home.
I could go on with more observations, but there are far too many because each person handles it differently. It gets better with time for most, but life is never the same. That doesn’t mean it can’t be good.
I don’t know how I would be if I were widowed. No one does until you walk that path yourself. But I think I would want the following from my friends and family if I were ever faced with that grief. The following is what I would want to say, based upon conversations with widows.
I’m grateful for your support at the time of loss, but I’d want you not to forget about me after the initial attention has waned. I would need your support.
If my children live in the same town or at least nearby, please include me in your family meals at times. I don’t have a daughter, but if I did, I’d ask her to have mother-daughter days from time to time. Hey, that’s a great idea even if Mom isn’t widowed. Moms and daughters have a unique bond. Don’t wait until Mom is alone to spend time with her.
It’s okay if I cry and feel lonely. It’s part of the grieving process, and it’s part of learning how to live my new normal. But don’t say things to me like, “Count your blessings” or “It could be worse.” I would know that with my head, but you saying that won’t make me feel it with my heart. It will take time to heal. So let me.
As I write this, I realize the same things could apply to those who have gone through a divorce since they, too, must learn to live a new normal.
I don’t like to think about being alone at some point in my life, but I can’t help but think about it as more and more of my friends lose their spouses. I do know my personality, however. I know I’d be hosting meals in my home for others from time to time. Knowing me, I’d start a widows’ dinner club in which everyone brings a dish and we’d spend time together on at least a monthly basis. I’d cry a lot. Yes, I’m one of those people who cries easily. I’d do what I do now when my limited life caused by vision loss overwhelms me. I’d call friends, I’d call shut-ins, I’d send cards, I’d try to do something for others.
And as long as I’m physically able, I’d exercise. I’d go for long walks or swim or do my intervals (yes, I have a home interval fitness program I’d be happy to share with you if interested), and I’d even go on trips. I’d do whatever I could to escape the aloneness of my life.
But I would never get over the grief completely. I’d handle it better at times than others, but I’d still have my moments. I know that about myself. I’m very self-aware.
Maybe. The truth is, I don’t know what I’d do until I am forced to face it. I may never face it. My husband may be the one dealing with widowhood. He will handle things in his own way.
To all of you who are widowed or divorced, please know that many of us see you. We see your pain. We see your valiant efforts to move on. We may not talk about it, but we’re aware. So we pay for you and do what we can, knowing all along we can’t fix things.
But maybe we can brighten your day in some small way. And maybe your grief will lessen as time goes on and the memories of your life with your loved one will bring laughter instead of tears and joy instead of heartache.
Life As I know it 