My Shower
After my husband died, my shower became my refuge. It was the place I could escape to allow the tears to fall freely. Some days the sobs were barely noticeable but other days, the walls didn’t feel sturdy enough to handle my pain.
The shower was where I could be alone, away from the eyes of those who watched me, silently praying that I’d get through the worst period of my life. It was where I could cry and avoid the sympathy hug that often made me feel so much worse. It was where I talked to my late spouse and questioned why he left me, a week after our first wedding anniversary.
It was in the tub, curtains drawn, that I also questioned my faith…questioned God. It just didn’t seem fair or right that as I sat in church, my husband was unexpectedly taking his last breath. I was in church for crying out loud. Shouldn’t that have offered me some kind of protection?
There were some heart-breaking moments in that shower of mine. But, there were also many positive ones. It’s where I gave myself numerous pep talks. Where I sternly told myself that his death would not break me. It’s where I forced myself to think about how much my husband loved and embraced life. Where I realized I had to live partially for him, but more importantly for me. It’s also where I prayed and asked God to remove the anger and hurt; where I ultimately found my way back to my faith.
It’s the place my healing ultimately began.
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My Heating Pad
I needed to feel warm. Though I tend to be one of those people who is cold all the time, the chill I felt following my husband’s death was different. No amount of layers of clothing could warm my body, heart or soul. I felt frozen from the inside out.
I honestly can’t remember how it came to be but I started using a heating pad every night. Some nights it barely made a difference but other times, it provided the warmth I needed. I felt entombed in my little cocoon, heat permeating through the sheets.
I don’t know if it was the faux body heat that it provided but it helped me to not toss and turn as much. It also helped quiet my thoughts and allowed for more nights of uninterrupted sleep.
I used my heating pad as a crutch for about six months after my spouse’s death. When it had served its purpose, I simply unplugged it and tucked it away.
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My Sneakers
I discovered a running group shortly before my husband’s passing. When he died, I considered shelving any plans I’d had to pursue it as a hobby. I’d met such an incredible group of ladies and they encouraged me to lace up my sneakers and return the pavement.
The ability to be outdoors and with others was refreshing. Wogging – my walk/jog combo – enabled me to have full control over something when everything else felt like a spinning gig. I could control how many miles I wanted to put in for the day. I had a choice as to which 5K races I participated in. I chose how far I wanted to push my body. Death hadn’t given me a choice.
The thing about running though is that your mind often wanders. You think about what could have been, would have been…if only. During those times, I’d will myself to focus on the happy memories, to recall a funny story or a favorite vacation. It was this same strategy that I used to compete in my first half-marathon about six months after his passing.
My sneakers gave me control.
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My Wedding Ring
I can vividly recall touching my wedding bands in the days following my husband’s death. It gave me such a strong sense of connection to him. On the days when I felt my heart aching, longing for his presence, I would rub my wedding ring. It was a reminder of one of the happiest days of my life. There was something almost magical about our wedding day and my ring reminded me of the overwhelming love we shared.
I wore my ring for nearly four years after his passing. I dated while wearing my ring. It’s not that I thought I was still married; it was simply a comfort thing for me. It felt like taking off my ring was the final act in our love story.
I’d set a deadline to take off the rings but they came and went. I just wasn’t ready. I eventually learned it was okay. The right partner will understand this and thankfully, I met a great guy who did.
One day, out of the blue – no special occasion or milestone – I felt ready and simply took them off.
I’ve never wanted to put them on again, something I feared would become a cycle.
I drew peace from the rings. When I felt strong enough to trust my heart and mind with our memories, I chose to safely put away the physical symbol of our love.
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My Phone
Technology often gets blamed for so much but it can also be a thing of beauty. My phone was critical to my healing in the first year.
From looking up grief-related quotes on the internet to reading stories of hope and inspiration from other young widows, my device became my lifeline.
At one point during the first year of widowhood, I became especially depressed and sought out an in-person support group. When I walked into the room and was welcomed by women in their 70’s and 80’s, I knew it was not the place for me. I take nothing away from their loss but I just felt I couldn’t fully relate to their pain and neither could they to mine.
That evening, I Googled support groups and found a helpful one that was conducted via group email. For the first time in my grief, I was interacting with people who “got it” and understood what it meant to be a young widow.
It’s been almost seven years since I reached out to the group and so much has changed in the online world of grief since then. There are hundreds of support groups on Facebook, even niche group related to your life’s circumstances and how you lost your spouse.
My phone continues to be one of the biggest outlets for my grief and connecting with others who share my path.
What ‘odd thing’ has helped your grief journey?
Mom to a feisty kindergartener, Kerry runs a support group for young widows and widowers venturing back into the world of dating and is a contributor to Open to Hope. She is the author of “The One Thing: 100 Widows Share Lessons on Love, Loss, and Life” and her articles on widowhood and grief have been featured in HuffPost and Love What Matters. She was recently featured on the podcast, Moments of Clarity.
Tea helped me endless cups and my brother in another time zone who I could call in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep.
I just discovered tea – wish I had sooner. So calming.
I took to music. I would turn on the 70s 80s and 90s music that I love and belted out the lyrics. Sometimes through my tears, but I knew I didn’t want to only survive, I needed to thrive. My late husband had taken his own life at the age of 37. I was a 35 year old widow with 7 minor children to not only care for, but to help them through their own grieving. And let me tell you, they all handled it differently. I had no option for failing, I had children who needed me more than ever as the world watched me, expecting me to completely snap. I cried a lot in the shower too, but my healing was in music. I’m 2 1/2 years out and we are doing very well.
So happy that you’re doing so well, Amanda. Yes, I jammed out to 90’s music too. Reggae was hard for me though since it reminded me of my hubby.
In the early days I thought journaling helped a lot, and even now but I don’t do it as much. I also would go out to the garage a scream in anger at the top of my lungs. I would also smoke and I am not a smoker, but in the early days of grief it helped me breathe. I ended up buying a punching bag to help get the anger out, I didn’t use it as much as I thought I would but still so from time to time.
Writing was something that I also found helpful. I love the idea of a punching bag too.
I’m widowed for 4 years this year. My shower also helped me, the dreaded sympathy hug was avoidable there too. I also journaled and moved to another state for 3 months
Wow! I feel like I wrote this myself. This really hit home for me. I was also recently widowed at 32 and it just seems so unfair and unreal when I actually say those words. I’m so glad I stumbled upon this! Thank you.
Thanks so much. Sorry for your loss. It is strange indeed to be in your 30’s and using the word ‘widow’ 🙁
Hi there, same here. Widowed at 32, utterly unreal. You’re not alone, a big virtual hug to you!
I’m 32, yes is so strange the adjective at this age
how are you now after a year? Im at my 1st month 🙁 and i cant see any light at the end of this or if there is an end
I feel the same way it’s only been two weeks since my husband passed from Covid . I’m only 35 with a 17 year old thats not going to have her dad there when she graduates this year 😞 everything is so bleak now like I’m just stuck and I can’t move forward and nothing is funny any more life is just so cruel 💔
I’m 26, with a 6 year old & and a 10 month old. And it was my husbands 1 month death anniversary this week. I’m trying to be strong for my kids, but i feel like I’m in a black hole that i can’t escape from. People asking me if im okay, or if i need anything to call them. But it feels like im never going to be okay again, and i don’t need anything, besides my husband back, my kids to have their dad back. And no one can give that to me. So i tell everyone I’m okay and no i don’t need anything. Sometimes i wish people understood that asking me if I’m okay is like a slap in the face, like it feels like a suggestion that in any way my answer would be yes I’m okay, when they know I’m not.
There is light ….. not the shining blazing sun type, you learn to move through life with the lights a little duller. There are moments of happiness, they will come more often and you’ll find you can smile, laugh. My advice is avoid any time measurements of milestones of how you should be feeling. I’m 8 months post losing my partner and yes my life has improved from beyond that first month. Take your time. Remember it’s ok to be happy and grieving, tho the happiness will take some time. I feel as though I’m doing really well now but the first 3 months were the most painful ❤️
Your comment about running really spoke to me. I started running also and it’s such an escape while I’m running. It lets me think about my husband, & remember memories but also focus on the future as well!
Yes, I had no idea what an escape it could be at times. Happy running!
I bought a body pillow to simulate her being on the other side of the bed. Every once in a while I toy with the idea of stuffing her heated throw into it to simulate body heat as well. I’ve rejected that because the next step would probably be putting it in frilly lingerie, that would be too weird.
Lol. Yes, there is that fine line 🙂
My daughter is widowed at 25.she has five small babies.Just pray for her please he passed in October.
Will keep her in my prayers
This is the third Weekend without my husband, nothing makes sence
But I thank you so much for writing this. I’m only 30 years old with two babies, a girl (2 and half) and a boy (8 months)
Sending virtual hugs. Those first few months can be such a ball of numbness and confusion. Please be kind to yourself and practice self care. Groups like Hope for Widow Foundation and Soaring Spirit are great resources.
It is so wonderful to hear others’ experiences of coping! Now I understand why I had my heater on all the time in the months after my husband passed, just over two years ago. Even in California “winter,” I felt I couldn’t get warm. It took a while, but I found my way back to exercise too. So powerful! In the first few months after, mostly I wrote, compulsively. I am now working on putting that writing into a book, and I have also started a blog. Please feel free to check it out, at widowofwonder.blogspot.com. Thanks for all the sharing here, I’m so happy to have found this!
Yes, that need for constant heat! Writing can be so cathartic; glad it’s been helpful. I’ll definitely check out your blog 🙂
My dog and writing helped me. I was a widow at 40. I’d scream at him for leaving me and felt guilty. So I’d write and just let it all out. Also get freezing and Winters in Florida are pretty warm, yet I was in hoodies and ugg boots. As for my dog, he was a big boy and the reason I’d get out of bed, even when I didn’t want to. Sure we all can relate to those days.
Absolutely! We’ve all been there. Glad you found some helpful outlets
Michelle
I put on strong shoes and kicked the crap out of his chair while I screamed and cried. My “anger stage” was quite lengthy.
Sounds like a great way to release some of the heaviness of grief.
I became a widow Jan 5th 2020. The times when i am alone are the hardest but i also look forward to them. I have all sorts of emotions. Sad angry overwhelmed nostalgic. My husband was 28 years old and after over a 5 year battle we brought him home on hospice and he passed this past sunday. I took care of him right till the end. I pushed the morphine and the ativan as much as i could hoping he would stay comfortable and go in peace. It was hard for myself and many others that stood by our side those 6 days he was home. But it was a little sacrifice compared to how hard he fought to be here with us as long as he could. We have a 6 year old together. And she is my light. I decided to google widow at age 30. And this is what i found. It gave me comfort today. My heart goes out to all of us young women and men. We have a tough journey ahead but i know we will be ok.
Big hugs on your loss, Genevieve. It sucks being widowed and I’m sorry you’ve joined this crappy “club.” There are a wealth of support groups online that can be a great resource. Please consider Hope for Widows Foundation. They run a great closed group on Facebook. Also, consider reaching out to Soaring Spirits and checking out their Camp Widow. When (or if) you get to a place where you’re okay seeing people dating post loss, please consider my FB group, Support Group: Young, Widowed and Dating.
Thank you for your advice and recommendations i appreciate it. God Bless.
I am also a widow at 30 as of Feb 21, 2020. My husband was sick for less than a year. I think music and keeping myself busy are what will get me through this.
Holding his wedding ring makes me feel connected with him. Writing and music has been the best healing solution. At the beginning I wrote to him every day, now after a year and a half has passed I write less. Listening to songs that I can relate my grief to has helped a lot its like being in a support group
Yes, music can be so cathartic <3
i ask the Holy Spirit to be with me to comfort me and all widows and widowers….. and He does….Holy Spirit, Jesus and Heavenly Father are always with us… lean into them through prayer and you will feel their strong presence……God bless all…stay close and talk with friends….
Husband passed five years ago. With a Brain tumor.
I still grieve for him everyday. Can’t. Accept that I’m alone. Cry a lot of nights. So many of mine family & friends are dealing with cancer. I don’t want to get too close to anyone.
It feels like we relive the trauma anytime a family member or friend is ill. Prayers for strength.
Hi, I became a Widow this past March 19th, 2019 as I watched my Husband David take his last breath. I thought through his illness I was ready to see him go.As David stopped breathing, I fell apart.Its taken me all these months to see even a glimmer of light out of the grief fog.It never goes away,I’m trying to get used to Davids absence.I talk to Jesus everyday to help me stay upright.I also mentally remind myself that he is really gone & that I really saw it happen.Blessing to all of you who have lost someone you Love. ❤ Gail B.
I too became a widow at 40…I had nowhere to turn as that was back in 2008. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were only married for 16 months. The love of my life…gone soo soon. I made it thru, but today would’ve been our 13th wedding anniversary. I can’t stop thinking of the beautiful day we got married, and how much fun we had and how much love we had for each other. It’s still tough.
Big hugs, Janet!
Same here honey. I saw him die and we were only married 14 months. We have a 6 month old daughter
My husband passed away in a car accident in October 2019. it was not easy been single suddenly, loneliness is really killing me.
So sorry for loss. I hope you’ll consider a support group if you haven’t already done so. They can for sure help you not feel so alone – though nothing fills the hole.
I am 36. I have three kids. My husband died of liver disease at age 45. He couldn’t quit drinking. He mentally and physically abused me. I still miss him. I forgave him everyday.
I’m sure forgiving is a huge part of your own healing. So sorry for your loss.
Thank you for your words. 23 years ago I was widowed at 32. Now I understand how I felt so cold all the time even on a warm day. I remember that chill so well. Wish I’d been able to read this then.
Thanks, Carol. So many can relate to that chill unfortunately.