The first time I had to check that little box next to that word was like a punch in the gut! It was like someone had reached inside me and ripped out my heart. A little five letter word that turns your world upside down.
Being a widow is not a club anyone wants to join, but you need to know there are others who have traveled that road. You need someone who can tell you that although you never get over it, you can get through it.
That word. That small, but powerful word. It’s a dark word full of sad, mad, afraid, confused, lonely, depressed, and if you let it, defeated. You are sad because you lost the love of your life, your soulmate, you best friend. You are mad because he left you to figure everything out. You are afraid of what your future without him will be. You are confused when you are faced with having to be the one who does the things he always did. You are lonely when you see other couples doing the things you thought the two of you would do together. You are depressed because you don’t feel anyone understands.
I am strong, but I have been broken. I have had to learn things I never thought I would have to do. I have screamed, cried, cussed, but I survived. I have ridden the tsunami of sorrow and I survived. I didn’t give up.
The first year I spent trying to get through all the firsts: the first birthday, the first anniversary, the first Thanksgiving, and the first Christmas. I learned I wasn’t losing my mind when I couldn’t finish a sentence because I would lose my train of thought mid way through it, or couldn’t remember getting somewhere, just knew I was there. That is when I learned about widow’s fog! Yes, there really is such a thing. I think the fog somehow protects your still tender heart.
I had heard the second year is harder and I have to agree. By this time, people expect you to get over it and move on because they have. The phone calls to see if you are okay have stopped. Friends have returned to their lives while you are just trying to learn how to go from a “we” to a “me”. The brain fog has lifted and the reality of what you have lost has taken its place. You start to realize you are a widow.
Four months after my husband passed away, I had total knee replacement surgery. While recuperating from that, my youngest son passed out at work and suffered a fractured skull and concussion. I was still using a cane to get around, and trying to be at the hospital with my son. The grace of God kept me from having a nervous breakdown. It was all too much at one time, but I survived because I didn’t give up.
That word. I’ve learned to embrace it. I have chosen to look at it as a word of honor. I know, why honor? I wear it as a badge of courage. That word – WIDOW- meant someone loved me until they died! Not everyone can say that. I hear my husband saying, “you got this, Babe”!
I DIDN’T GIVE UP! 