Widowhood 101

After I had written a list of things I have learned over the last 16 months I read it again and decided that it would make a great basis for a book on the first year of my life as a widow.I was widowed on the 20th of December 2010 at 6am. My husband breathed his last breath in our home and in that moment life, as I had known it for 27 years had ceased to exist and the 25 years of care giving had suddenly stopped. At that point in time, like most widows, I descended into a fog that carried me through the first few weeks. This fog protects the mind to a degree and aids the bereaved in coming to terms with the sudden changes in their lives. Changes that no one plans for, that no one wants, but changes that are happening all around you from the moment that you become a widow or widower.My family and friends were wonderful, but were unable to reach me through that fog for many weeks. I remember waking each morning and putting my feet on the floor and wondering what I was going to do with the day now that I no longer had my husband to care for. I think during that time I did withdraw from almost everyone and for that I am sorry, but for my own sake and for the sake of others I needed to pull away and lick my wounds. I did not want to drag anyone down the path of grief with me and did not want anyone to witness the depth of the grief I felt. I have always been a private person with things like this and it probably stems from my childhood in the United Kingdom where a stiff upper lip is taught to all children in my family. Grief is a private thing and not for the consumption of others. This is what I was taught as a child and something I have carried through my life and even now am reluctant to show this grief to others.I did not cry at his funeral, the fog was still so thick that there is still an unreality attached to that day. I remember the details, but they are almost misty and feel like they are someone else’s memories. I had promised him too, that I would not let the world see me cry on that day and to honour his memory I held myself together. I felt like ice inside though and tears were ready to melt and shed.I do believe though that I had shed many tears over the years we were together and during the times when the Doctors told me that he would not survive. Those were the times for tears, grief for the little things that were slowly being taken away from him and us. The ever-present threat of death for all those years meant that the grieving had become a part of life and that may have softened somewhat the pangs after he died. I will never know as I can only share the journey that I have taken in the hopes that it will help someone else along the wayWriting this book is part of my dream and part of the person I am. It is part, only part of the story of this year and a half of my life. This book has come to mean a lot to me, sharing this journey with others also means a lot as this may help some other widow or widower with their start upon this journey.