“You have to move on.”
If you’ve been widowed more than 90 days, you’ve inevitably heard that phrase from well-meaning family, friends and acquaintances.
Move on…
What many people don’t understand is that losing a spouse is the equivalent of a massive ball of soot exploding in your life. The dust gets on everything…you, your children, your finances, your photos, your home…everything. It blurs your memory and clouds your future. It blinds you, making you unsure of which path is best for you, best for your children. It suffocates you, leaving you breathless and wanting to give up. It seeps into your pores and affects your health – mentally and physically. It changes your children. It divides your life into the before and after.
There’s a grief triad for many in the widowed community. When a spouse dies, we mourn our past, our present and our future.
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Our Past
We miss how things were. Even if our marriages had soured over the years, we missed the connection that initially drew us to our spouse. We miss our innocence. We miss growing together as a couple and finding our way in the relationship. We miss starting a family. We miss how we held hands. We miss date nights. We miss having our person. We miss having a sounding board, an advocate, a confidant and a best friend all rolled into one. We miss vacations. We miss the little things. We miss the big things.
That ball of blackness that exploded in our lives often threatens to consume many of those memories with each passing year. Our children lose another bit of their father the older they become. We don’t “move on” simply because we can’t. We hold onto those memories and moments because we never want to forget.
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Our Present
Our present looks a lot different without our spouse by our side. Whether our lives are “better” or “worse”, there is still pain that comes with our present. Why isn’t my spouse here to see the fiercely independent person I’ve become? Why didn’t he/she get to see our children grow into amazing adults? Or, why did it take my spouse’s death for me to find my worth? Why did his/her death give me my freedom?
Each obstacle overcome and every defeat we experience is a reminder that we are widowed. Every parenting frustration, every financial challenge, every dating disaster, every home repair issues…all reminders that the soot continues to permeate our lives.
Death reminds us daily that we are widowed. How do you move on from something that continues to slap you in the face every single day (even on good days)? It’s not for attention. Widowhood sucks!
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Our Future
The death is a reminder of unfinished plans. It’s the incomplete house renovation, the pregnancy that never happened, the trip we didn’t take. In mourning our spouse, we grieve what should have been, what could have been. We grieve wouldas, couldas and ifs. We miss the lives that we’d carved out in our head despite not knowing if things would have turned out that way. Regardless, it’s our fantasy and we get to mourn that as we see fit.
Yes, we can continue many of those dreams alone but the truth is, the experience won’t be the same (though that’s always a negative thing). It’s not until the thickness of that dark cloud that hangs over our head begins to dissipate that we begin to get clarity on how we move forward with our lives. No amount of pressure from family and friends will clear the fog. It requires effort and time and is unique to each widow.
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So, the next time you feel inclined to tell a widow that she needs to move on, please remember that her grief is tied to her past, present and future. Allow her to move forward, through the pain, the sadness, uncertainty, etc., the best way she can. Just be there. Offer support and guidance. You don’t have to be a problem solver or a savior. Sometimes all we need is a hand to hold or a listening ear.
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.
This post perfectly sums up everything I have been feeling as the one year mark of my husband’s passing approaches this week. He was 34 and passed very unexpectedly of cardiac arrest just 6-weeks after our son’s first birthday. So many sweet memories in our 12 years together. So much pain in what he’s missing in the present as our son grows. So many unfinished plans we made for our life together. Im so glad I found your blog to know I’m not alone.
Thanks, Bridget. The secondary losses – especially for our future – can be so overwhelming at times.
I also became a widow at 32 , 3 weeks before Christmas . We have two little boys . Thankyou for sharing this , Extremly helpful
You’re welcome, Michelle. Hugs on your loss, especially so close to Christmas
I became a widower 4 days before Christmas. I can understand the difficulty around that time of year, now that we have the anniversary of their passing at that same time. I was 40 when she passed. So much time we should still have had. Sending hugs to you and yours!
Love this post ,, Soo much Truth in every phase of grief as a widow. My Husband and Brother we’re killed together in a car accident, 23 years ago, even though I miss My brother and our bond, I have grieved and still grieve My husband. The life we had planned, he didn’t get to see or 6 yr old daughter and our 5 week old son grow up, he has missed the birth of our grandson,, and I am not and never will be the complete person I was then , I always carry an emptiness
This was brilliant and very accurately reflects how it is for me. Thank you for your post ♥️
I appreciate the kind words 🙂
After 11 yrs, still! Great article and very well explained! Could not have said it better!
Thanks!
Wow! This post is so true and very deep. It’s precisely how I feel. I lost my wife approximately one year ago and I feel like only half of me is existing. It’s a lonely place! Thank you so much
Glad it was helpful. Hope you’ll consider a support group if you haven’t already done so.
Oh my god this is exactly everything that I feel and continue to feel. We have an incomplete house renovation which is overwhelming but I feel an urgency to complete. Its also just lonely even though you are surrounded by people and your trying to do your best for your children…. They’ve lost their Dad at age 11 & 14 😢 … So you’ve got to keep it together.
I couldn’t have explained that better myself… Unless you have been through it its hard to understand