I’m a widow – I never thought that I would be saying those words in my fifties. As a child the only widows I knew seemed like old women that had nothing to look forward to.
Our lives are molded by what happens to us on our journey. Widows – after seeing grief first hand find solace in each other not because we come from the same city or know mutual friends, but because we have gone through the same psychological grief and pain. We all know what happened without any need of an explanation. We understand each other in a special way.
When I was in my thirties I could talk to a widow and have compassion but I couldn’t really understand what she was going through because I still had my husband. I hadn’t gone through the depths of suffering and loss that I would eventually go through when I was fifty years old.
I used to think widows and widowers were sad people for the rest of their lives. Sometimes I’m sad, but I’ve learned to live life and to make it meaningful. I want to live and I appreciate that I can – Donnie was not so blessed.
I listen to my widowed friends and they listen to me and neither of us are victims, we are just strong women sharing our journey with each other.
It is impossible to live through the loss of our loved ones and remain the same. In my case I know that I’m a better person with a new level of compassion. I write about my journey and hope that it resonates with others and inspires them to have the courage to find themselves and to realize peace comes from within.
So this Saturday when many loved ones get gifts and share kisses I will embrace the person that I have become, the life that has been shaped from my grief and my widowed friends that understand the journey.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all my friends and thank you for being part of my life.