We don’t get to take a break when our husband, gone for a week to handle company business, returns home.
We don’t get to take a break when Sunday’s games are over and the final score for Monday Night Football scrolls across the screen.
We don’t get to take a break when hunting season comes to a close and our dear hubby is back to finally pulling his weight around the house.
We don’t get to take a break when the next shift rotation takes place and our firefighter spouse pulls into the driveway.
No, we don’t ever get to take a break from widowhood! It’s 24/7. It’s 365 days a year. And, on those dreaded leap years, it’s 366 days of it – nonstop.
We don’t play up widowhood for attention. It’s not a load we can put down when it gets too heavy. It’s something we carry with us – on our good and bad days.
It’s having the most perfect day, surrounded by the most important people in your life and holding back the tears. Tears because your spouse isn’t there to witness the graduation, the wedding, the baby shower, the birth.
It’s getting a cancer diagnosis within a year of burying your spouse and he isn’t there to tell you it’s going to be okay; that you’ll beat it…together.
ADVERTISEMENT
Widowhood permeates every fiber of our day-to-day lives. It’s the kids, it’s the house, it’s the in-laws, it’s our friendships, it’s every single day.
We can’t get over it. We can’t get under it. We can’t get around it. We can only try to move forward as it continues to try to suck us back in.
Widowhood seems to mean our lives suddenly get put under a microscope. What’s she doing? How long is she going to wait? Did she really move on that quickly? Wonder what her husband would have to say about that?
Insensitive comments don’t speed up our healing process. Shunning us won’t make us forget. Being judged doesn’t make us love them any less.
We’re accused of not loving our husband if we “move on” too quickly and of wasting our lives if we mourn too much.
This widowed club, it ain’t for the faint of heart. You need widow-balls made of steel to survive.
As someone pointed out, “Burying my husband was the easy part. It was all the crap that came after that was difficult”.
The guilt.
The anger.
The suicidal thoughts.
The questioning your faith and beliefs.
The frustration.
The neglect.
The self-sabotage.
The work to reclaim your life.
We should never have to make apologies for our grief. We’ve earned the right to scream it from the mountain top: widowhood sucks! The days we miss our husbands or feel overwhelmed with sadness are just as valid as the accomplishments we have achieved and obstacles we’ve overcome.
Whether 9 months or 9 years post-loss, the load of widowhood is present. Single or remarried, it’s there. Children or childless, it’s constant.
We develop better coping skills over time so the triggers don’t cut as deep, but trust us, widowhood is lurking 24/7. This club, it ain’t for the faint of heart.
Mom to a feisty preschooler, Kerry Phillips became widowed at age 32. She runs an online support group for young widows and widowers venturing back into the world of dating and is a blogger for The Huffington Post.
ADVERTISEMENTS
I needed to read this today. THANK YOU KERRY!
Glad it could be of help <3
Thank you for this!!! So damn true!! I just bought my first home and already hear and see the judgement!!! No one knows what we go through!!! Thank you so so much for posting this!!!
Congrats on the new home! Do your thing and ignore the naysayers
Everything in this article is so true. Widowhood does suck!
It seriously does!
I became widowed at 51. Never in my wildest dreams did I EVER think it would happen to me. But it did. It has been a struggle but I have come through each struggle with more will power and strength I never thought I had. I have been travelling this journey for a little over 10 years. I’ve met a wonderful man after 6+ years of widowhood. We’ve been together almost 4 years. He’s widowed also so he gets it too.
Love that – more power and strength.So true!
This is so true. My wife took her life 2.5 yrs ago, my life has been like living hell since then. There is no respite from the sadness and grief. No one understands what I am going through every single moment and that makes it more difficult. No one talks to me about her, or how and why she did what she did.
Loneliness sucks.
Hugs, Ash. Perhaps a support group may be of help.
I lost my fiance to suicide 13 & 1/2 years ago. I have since remarried, and still carry the pain of his death with me every day. I understand exactly what you are going through Ash. I have been blamed for his decision by some of his family which just adds another layer to the pain. Although I know that I will forever carry this with me, I can say the weight of it lessens over time. I am sorry for your loss, & hope you have found some measure of peace & healing. God Bless, & Good Luck.
This has been so helpful for me. Being a widow is the suckiest club I have ever been apart of. I love to see the support this group shows each other. I was a very social person and was always true to the words you take me for who I am or let me go before my husband death. I now struggle with that tremendously because society can’t handle who I am and my safe place is my home. I can be ME in it. I laugh, cry and vent my anger. My poor dog must think I’m nuts. When I leave my home I leave with my split personalities. #1 widow, #2 happy hiding pain this sucks because I was never a split personality person. I want to see the day I can leave my home and be ME again.
I think we all carry some #1 and #2 with us daily 🙁 I pray for your continued strength.
Oh can I relate. My home is my haven & my dog is my little love who never judges me. Widowhood totally sucks!
36 I became widowed, I have 3 kids, I have been married for 20 years. My kids are angry, I’ve heard people say that it might have been different if he died a different way, that somehow because of the way he died and it would somehow change the way we felt about his death. I thought my husband was invincible and now that he’s gone, I have absolutely no idea how to proceed with life
You don’t have to figure it out all at once. Take it day by day. Hugs