The Dichotomy of Widowhood

The loss of my person was the biggest life event to happen to me. To ever happen to me. Whatever happens going forward will not be able to match the gigantic hole torn in my heart by the loss of my person.

But my person isn't the only thing lost.

Once the funeral is over everyone starts to go back to their lives. As they should. The calls and texts slow down. I know I am not alone when I say that it became easier to respond to the never ending "How are you?", (complete with a head tilt.), with the big fat lie of "I'm good." All while your brain is shouting a long list of ways I am, in fact, not at all good. Or the big one: "I know how you feel. when I lost my mother, (father, sister, brother, dog...) YOU DON'T KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO LOSE YOUR PERSON. I am sure many of you have held back the urge to smack a person or two after these conversations.

When we think about that statement- the "I know how you feel" statement, we know the truth. They don't know. They don't know what it is like to lose the person you complained to about work. The one you debriefed with after family events. The one you could sit quietly with, no words needed. The one you danced in the kitchen with, who knew how dark you liked your toasted english muffins and who knew you needed 4 fake sugars, blue or yellow only, for your iced tea.

I am building a new life, which feels wrong. Guilty. I started, months ago, by adding family photos of Brad and the four of us to the front living room. I added plants and twinkle lights. I added a large piece of furniture. I started calling it my Sanctuary Room.

I added a second puppy. Then an indoor garden. I changed my bedspread and redecorated my office. I left Corporate America. And there are days when moving forward feels too much like moving on. Like I am leaving my Brad behind.

It's such a dichotomy. I loved my life with Brad. I don't particularly enjoy my life without him but I have to learn how to do just that. Like the old Girl Scout song- Make new friends, but keep the old..." Make a new life, but keep the old in my memories. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

Like a neon flashing sign over my head a thousand times a day; GUILTY!

And the dichotomy of widowhood doesn't end there. If you are not yet a member of our elite widow club you don't know our dirty little secret. How we are so happy for those who still have their person and also so, so jealous of them as well. we want to celebrate the milestones. We want to "like" the vacation photos on Facebook, knowing that we will never post our own couple vacation pics again. We want to smile at the older couple walking past us as we enter the restaurant, the husband holding his wife's arm, guiding her down off the curb. Chivalry is not dead but damn it, that should be my future. Jealousy that leads to guilt.

Another neon sign flashing over my head: GUILTY!

I had a decent day. I laughed. GUILTY.

I got angry at the elderly couple for being allowed to still be together and in love. GUILTY.

I make financial decisions that are very different than my husband would have made. GUILTY.

I parent differently now, Partially because my boys are getting older, partially because I am walking through grief with them, and partly because I am now solo parenting. I am not accountable to a partner and these often difficult decisions fall solely to me. But I know that some of my decisions are not what my person would have agreed to. GUILTY.

Love, memories, building a new life, jealousy and guilt. The dichotomy of widowhood.