In Mourning and Discovery: A Widow's Journey

A widow loses so much more than a husband, and that's something that most people don't see. There are so many layers of grief for a widow. It's not just about losing a spouse. We're losing a whole way of life. We're losing all of our plans for the future and we're losing a version of ourselves that will never get back. Usually, when you decide to make a change and say goodbye to something, there's something new and exciting to look forward to in its place, like saying goodbye to your trusty old car for a shiny new one, or saying goodbye to your hometown to welcome new adventures in a new city, and sometimes saying goodbye to a former version of yourself and hello to a new mindset and a more confident you. The difference here is that we didn't choose these losses. These losses are more profound because they came at the price of a life. Everything that you ever knew about your life changes, especially who you are, but it doesn't mean we can't still look forward to the future, look forward to change, look forward to good things happening in our lives. Grief clouds our judgment and sometimes we hold on to that grief because we feel guilty moving forward without our person. Our person is not going to be there to support us through these changes, and they're not going to see the outcome. After my husband, tom, died, I questioned everything who I was as a wife, a mother, a friend, everything but especially as a wife. And if you've been listening, you've heard me say that I found out my husband was having an affair just six months before he died, and even though I decided to stay with him, I hadn't forgiven him. We still argued about it and I still held it over his head, and we never discussed the reasoning for it or tried to resolve any issues that we may have had. I just didn't want another failed marriage and in my head I knew Tom having an affair was all my fault. Somehow I was the blame. If I could just be a better wife, it would be fine, of course. For me, being a better wife meant doing exactly what was best for Tom and not for me. And after Tom died, I regretted not having that real conversation, the one that we needed to move past the affair like we should have. So, as a widow, I looked back on my marriage and my life and, even though I didn't want to say goodbye to Tom, I thought I no longer have to worry about being a perfect wife. It almost seemed like a relief, until one day I was forced to take a good long look at myself. My guilt surrounding Tom's death was really getting to me. Why wasn't I there when he died? What did I do wrong as a wife? Why did I constantly blame myself for everything that went wrong? I had to look at who I was before Tom. With Tom and after Tom, I chose to go down a path of self-discovery and was faced with a version of myself that was angry, abandoned, neglected, overlooked, mistreated, unworthy and never good enough. And, to my surprise, who I was had nothing to do with Tom. That is why I say to you, my friend this widowhood journey is all about you, not the person you lost. Just as I've accepted the loss of my husband, tom, I've accepted the loss of who I was in my old life. I'm never going to get that person back, and I'm okay with it. I don't want to be her anymore. This new version of me is much more confident and stronger, even though I can still fall back into old patterns sometimes, but at least I acknowledge it and I'm working on it. I will be the first person to admit that I'm not perfect. I make a lot of mistakes and I may not even be the best widow example, but I'm continuously working on the person that I want to be. It's been a rough transition and I still have a ways to go. That's okay, because, after all, love is not dead. Just my husband, thank you.