February 21, 2017 – Open letter to a new widow.

You are stronger than you think.  I, too, will be in the “widow club” someday in the future.  I have witnessed so many of my dear friends over the years who have coped.  Some well, some not so well.  [Becoming a widow doesn’t come with an “instruction manual” either.  You just have to learn as you go along.]

It is important that you take care of you . . . you are under stress . . . even though the funeral is over . . . you are still under stress.

Don’t toss out any “stuff” unless you want to toss it out.  If your children or siblings want to clean out closets – say – No.  You need to do it yourself. If and when you do, it will give you closure.

Don’t be afraid to “remember”.  You lived it and you earned the right to remember whatever you want to remember.  Don’t be afraid to talk about your dear husband to everyone – family, friends, foes, and strangers.  The ladies at the church will understand this more than you think.

I had one delightful friend, Bella, who talked about her husband in the PRESENT tense which confused the hell out of me.  Every once in a while I would almost say:  “When is he expected home from his business trip?”

But, later on, I ran into more and more widows who still talk about their spouses in the present tense.  So, don’t sweat that.  In fact, I sort of like the idea then he is never gone, is he?

He will always be with you in your heart.

You might want to have a timer for a lamp and/or radio to come on when you are expected home so that you don’t walk into “silence” or “darkness”.

Yes, I know you have had some rough times.  I’ve been married for 39 years and sometimes we call it the “death struggle” in our off handed way to describe our petty little arguments which pop up from time to time as we both want our own way. [It was 39 years this last Saturday.  Time sure can fly by when you are “living”.]  You had 46 wonderful years.

This is going to take some time.  You can always use the phrase, “I don’t feel like talking about it anymore,” or the other way around – “I’d like to talk to someone about it, do you have time?”

You are going to have days when you are damn angry and days when you can hardly get up and put one foot in front of the next.  But, I am most certain you will be able to smile again, maybe even laugh again – not tomorrow or next week . . . but at some point you will suddenly realize you are okay and are at peace with yourself.

Remember this – you didn’t divorce him – he died – BIG difference.  You hung in there like a real trooper.  You know first-hand how hard it was being a caregiver and not everyone can do it.

When anyone offers you sympathy, be gracious and thank them.  When they ask how you are doing be honest.    Tell them what you might like: ‘Could we go to a movie one afternoon?  Could we just meet and have coffee?  OR, call me on the 1^st of next month to see how I am doing.’

Be honest. Say you have some rough edges or rough days or you feel empty or hollow or have a dreadful case of the “what now’s?”.  They may have some advice or do something so sweet you can’t fathom it.

Time heals – time passes – you are stronger than you think you are. You got through the epic caregiver thing.  Not everyone can do that without falling completely to pieces and being put in a sanatorium hospital or in your own hospital bed or in your own grave before your spouse.   

See you know how to give a damn good “going away” party including “taps” and a 21-gun salute and a flag draped coffin.  See how strong you have been.  Of course you are wimpy now . . . you’ve used all that adrenaline and strength.  Now you need to rest and restore your strength and take good care of YOU.  You are the most important person now.

Now, I’ll be absolutely awful and play the devil’s advocate.

Look on the bright side – less house cleaning, less laundry.  You get to eat what you want to eat.

You can use all the damn hot water there this in the hot water tank without being bitched at . . . you will now get the newspaper without it already folded back to the sports page – nice and crisp – the way you like it.  You can even drink the entire pot of coffee all by yourself. [Then later bounce off the walls.]

You get to control the remote control on the TV and can watch any damn thing you want to – you can even change to a different news channel if you want to.  I dare you to!!

And, who will ever leave the toilet seat up ever again?

You can change your hair style or perfume without him thinking you have a lover in the wings.

And, if some hunk does make a pass at you – you can take them up on it – ooh la la!

My dear one, try to realize you’ve had the weight of caregiver lifted off your shoulders.  That right there should make you want to jump up and yell to the roof tops: “YES”   “Been there, done that and I am done with that!”

I suggest you start a “joy” book.  Yes, a journal – something simple where you jot down the date and at the end of the day reflect on one “good” thing that has happened and, jot it down.  It could be as simple as the “toast did not burn”.   If you start to look for any speck of “joy” in your day and your life – you will be amazed at how it will find you.   I did it years ago when I was in the bluest funk I ever was in and was so amazed at what joy came strutting into my life that I’d not paid attention to.  It took me three (3) joy journals before I climbed out of the black hole I was in.

Okay,  . . . stand and stretch and breath – You are still alive. Please make every day count because you know firsthand that “Life has an expiration date which is unknown to you.”

Press a smile on your face and fake it till you make it – or cry if you want to – it’s your life now you have so many choices ahead of you. 

You may not have realized it, but you are a butterfly and have been set free . . .