I consider myself an independent woman, something that when I was a young girl I would have been very proud of. I would have been proud of the fact that I had a good job, proud of the fact that I had my own place, proud of the fact that I supported myself, and that my finances were in order. Proud of the fact that I was a published author, and extremely proud of the fact that I was confident in making decisions and handling my affairs.
Yes, I am an independent woman, but I am also a widow, which changes everything. You see when you are older and a widow your independence isn’t something you yearn for. In fact it wasn’t something I even gave a thought to. Independence wasn’t something I wanted. No, instead my new independence was part of a horrible nightmare that I longed to wake up from. I’ll never forget the day that my life changed forever; it was April 26, 2005. That was the day my husband of 35 years passed away. Eddie was my lover, my best friend, and my heart’s inspiration. So, you see my independence wasn’t something I expected, it wasn’t something I wanted, it wasn’t something that I strived for, it wasn’t something that I even anticipated, and it certainly wasn’t something that I was ready to accept.
When I was a young girl I longed for independence, I couldn’t wait to be the person I felt I could be. And, before I was married I was well on my way to being that confident, proud, independent woman that I dreamed about. I had my degree, I had my first teaching job, and I was engaged – my life was wonderful! I married my high school sweetheart, it was 1969 and the world was ours! My husband and I shared life’s up’s and down’s together. For 35 years we lived the, “American Dream”, life was good to us.
Then, it happened; you know how they say, “That your life can change in an instant.” Mine changed in three weeks – a sudden illness, hospitalization, then hospice, and then death entered our lives. My heart was broken into a million tiny pieces, and nothing anyone could say or do would put it back together. I realized how fragile life can be. I was lost and alone, and overpowered by my grief. I never knew when grief would wash over me and drag me down into the dark depths of despair and deep depression. For the first time in my life I was in a situation that I had no control over…I was helpless and I was so very alone…
The years following my soul mate’s death I struggled trying to live my life in “our” world – Eddie’s and mine, but it wasn’t “our” world any longer, and I just wasn’t ready to accept that. I struggled to keep up the large house we lived in, I struggled so hard to keep the life we knew together alive. I did this for six years, and then I finally gave up. I don’t know if I gave up as much as I suddenly woke up after being in such a dark place for so long. A place where grief was my constant companion. Yes, I was an independent woman for those six years, I had to be to survive, and in my mind I had something to prove. This wasn’t the kind of independence that I was proud of, this wasn’t the kind of independence that I ever wanted.
After I surrendered, gradually my life took on new meaning, and I was able to leave the physical world we shared together, and begin my life again. Oh, don’t misunderstand me, Eddie is still the love of my life, and he always will be. I still love him deeply and I know that our love keeps us connected in the most spiritual of ways.
I’ve found a way to move forward, and my life has gone full circle, I am back to being that same confident woman that I was back in 1969. Only now I am not so young, no, I’m 68 years of age, and it is 2014. I like to think that I’ve reached the age of, “wisdom.” Yes, the age of wisdom where I can put everything in perspective, where I have a deeper understanding of life itself, where the little things are just that little things, and where independence is now part of my life’s journey. The age of wisdom is a place where I am able to, “accept” graciously what life puts in my path. It is independence filled with a love of life, with kindness, and understanding. Yes, my new form of independence has given me a heart filled with love, memories, and a life worth living.
The world is full of independent widows; we are in a class all of our own. I can say that am now once again proud to be an independent woman. Although there are still days when in my heart I long for the life I once had. I long for the love that I had, I long for the sharing of decision making, and I long for being, “us” and not “me.” I am proud to be an independent widow, a state that I have accepted graciously. But I would be even prouder to once again be Eddie’s wife…
Tags: coping, Depression, grief, Moving forward, widow
You’re story is a mirrow reflection of what I am going through right now. My husband of 37 years who was my high school sweetheart, my soul mate, my lover and best friend died this year Jan 20th. He came down with the flu and developed H1N1 pneumonia. He passed away 4 days after admission to the hospital. I watched as this healty 57 declined every day and being in a medically induced coma on the ventilator, I will never know if he knew I was there and telling him how much I loved him. I never got to say good bye. I feel lost without him and can’t seem to move on. It didn’t help when I was in a terrible car crash May 18th and suffered permanent damage to my back. He was always there to take care of me. I find myself off work and too much time on my hands to think. How can I move on?
Cindy, I just received your comment yesterday, there must have been a glitch in the system. I would have answered sooner if I had gotten our comment…
I know only too well what you are going through. I know in my heart that he heard you telling him how much you loved him because I believe in what I call the, “Love Connection.” We are connected through our love, forever, and ever… Our love for each other never dies, and I can feel my husband by my side everyday now. I have to believe in this or life would be unbearable…
These first few months are extremely hard, I know because I’ve been there. Grief would wash over me in waves – and it hurt. It does get better, eventually it will get better. There is no timeline, and everyone is different. I always say that I learned to accept it, the wound in my heart is still there, and so is the love that I feel for him.
Love is what will keep you connected to him, and his love is what will help you through this extremely difficult time…
I recently had to loss of my beloved husband suddenly on November 28, 2014. We were soul mates. We shared 44 years of marriage together. We have two grown sons. I feel that my life will never be the same again. I miss him so much. He was there and just like that he was gone, no goodbyes. I have been grieving and it is very difficult. We did everything together, we were friends and a team. I feel lost, afraid, and overwhelmed. I feel frightened about the future. I am older now, I will turn 67 on my birthday, March 2015. I always felt secure when my husband was alive, now I feel so all alone and vulnerable. It just seems so unfair. I just retired from my job sis years ago. I wanted more time with my husband. I am so very sad, some days I feel depressed and so many emotions. I ask myself how much more can I take?
Janet,
Oh, how well I know those feelings… I can only say that somehow, someway you will find the strength that you need to go on. You will pull you out of that abyss of darkness and despair, in the beginning it will be slowly – at least it was for me. There were days that my grief washed over me completely, and other days when I found joy in the simple things – even if it lasted for only an hour or two – I found joy in life… Most of all, now as I look back it is the memories that I hold in my heart that helped me find the strength. Those memories connected me to my husband and the life that we shared all those years.
Take it day by day, and slowly, ever so slowly you will find your way, and the pain and sorrow will lift. I always say that the pain grows into an acceptance… The love that you share continues, it will always be with you…and that will also give you the strength that you need…it will help you through the most difficult of days…
I’m coming up on my husband’s 5 year anniversary of his death, and I am scarred to death of my reactions..I feel I’m just going to lose all control. Is this normal? ?
Doesnt seem like fun at all, especially when independnce was and is NOT something desired.
Very depressing actually.
Hi Paula,
I just lost my husband. We have been together since we were 16 years old and he died at 58. I tell myself he is in his glory and that his soul has gone home and that makes me feel better. But then I get moments where I am scared that he is sad, sad that he is not with me or my sons….. I feel crazy half the time and I want to feel sure that he has gone home/heaven … why am obessing about this? I love your post, it brings me so much comfort.
Nicoletta
Right now I’m struggling with who am I? Because I don’t want to lose the part of me that was with my husband. He was somewhat controlling. Soooo many, many times, he would tell me what or how to do something or not do something, and I would say “yes, MASTUH!” and he HATED when I said that. By using that phrase, I was telling him, “you’re being too controlling,” and he didn’t want to recognize, but he DID recognize what he was doing. He and I engaged in that over and over and over again, and most of the time, I gave in anyway. I did what he wanted.
But now he’s gone. Just GONE. that word, “GONE,” is huge. And I know that, even though I gave in, I gave in out of love for him, and because whether I knew it at the time or not, I learned over time that he was all too often, right. Driving very carefully! No sloppy art. He got mad at people, but for good reasons; such as, we loaned them money and they didn’t pay any of it back. That sort of reason. My tendency is to forgive and forget, but his was to avoid them from here on out! And at this point, I think, He was right! How am I going to carry on without him?? Who should I BE, now?
Latest thing to come my way, I want to paint the name “Angela” on my new kayak. I go for what I conceive as “angelic sparkles” in PAINT. I bought a small set of metallic paints, and opened them yesterday. And now I think, “he wouldn’t have liked that.” ha. Just saw a book on Amazon, on your book’s page, The Gift of Being Yourself: the Sacred Call to Self Discovery, oh … harr de harr harr harr. Sure, I am now totally alone. Sure, I sure now have The Gift (???) of being myself! But I want the self I’ve become WITH HIM. This is not a “gift.” Doesn’t feel like a “gift.” It feels like a “LOSS.”
i am CON (with) FUSED (yes I am a fusion of him and me!) and yes, now I am indeed CONFUSED. What to do? How to BE? His way? or my way? How do I keep the fusion? Which is what I love. The comfort. His way brought real comfort, more comfortable than I had ever been before meeting and marrying him. His way was a great way! We were happy. HAPPY! All the time. It was great. And now I’m just trying to find the way to go on. OUR way. But without him! Agonizing.
Yet I bought a kayak. He would never have bought a kayak. He was not an outdoor-exercise type. Yet I have enjoyed two kayak trips with new friends so far, and hope for more. I know this is just “my way.” Just like eating lots of jalapenos on bean burritos is “my way,” and he never liked hot food. I’ve been soaking things in Tabasco sauce and loving it! yeah, I have rebelled in little ways. But still, He is still with me. I think he is IN me, spiritually and emotionally and mentally, the fusion of US is now just in ME, and it connects me to him through the barrier between this world and the next.
So I guess painting the name “Angela” on my kayak in sparkly paints is MY way. Just a tiny rebellion that he would have not have had a real problem with, if he really were still here. And I guess I will do it. But I’ll try to keep it down, no rainbow colors, maybe? Maybe just silver and gold? It’s such a little thing. And it’s a step away from OUR way. So even while I exercise this new freedom, I do it with caution. Because I liked his way, the way of comfort and safety. Also because so many times, historically in my memory, his way worked out well. And also because of love itself. Love that has translated into deep deep loss and much much crying and sobbing and wave after wave of memory and crying and pain. That I accept and really, believe is part of the connection that I want to go on forEVER.
I feel like I am on a cusp. A cusp of feeling. Probably sort of a cusp on the way to what all these “steps” call ACCEPTANCE, but I really do not like that word. Or maybe I’m not. on a cusp of any kind. Maybe I’m just getting used to it. I make all the choices now. No more “yes, MASTUH!” … But I miss it! I miss the dissonance, with that real person, who had those real ways, that were really HERE. I miss it. I miss HIM. So much.
once again here I am. I searched for the word “rebellion” on this site and this was one of the few results.
But. It was my own post that included the word I was looking for. Why am I looking for this word, rebellion?
Because this morning I decided to burn a stick of incense, stuck the stick in the top of an empty salt shaker, put it on a plate, then considered where to put the plate. Middle of the house, I was thinking. And looking around, there was my husband’s side table that he always kept his TV remote on. And immediately I thought, “no, not there.” Because I’ve been doing what you say in your article: “I struggled so hard to keep the life we knew together alive.”
And then there was this spark of rebellion … I CAN put it there if I want! But I didn’t.
That spark is something I’m contemplating right now. Rebellion? What am I rebelling against? It’s mySELF. It’s myself, “trying to keep the life we knew together alive.” However, this trying-bit is probably self-protective. Boy oh boy am I self-protective. It’s like I can barely touch on the finality of this “thing.” It’s ME, protecting me. yeah. This grief is really WEIRD.
Is rebellion “healthy?” some Psych person would probably say “yes!” but … maybe it’s “more-healthy” to protect yourSELF by struggling “so hard to keep the life we knew together alive.” For as long as it takes. So far, I don’t want to “give up.”
Really, your article is really good. Resonates.
The ongoing-ness of it! I’ve been listening to music, so very many songs that are emotional. I’ve never been particularly emotional, an INTP personality-type; but now Righteous Bros.’ “Unchained Melody,” would be my “most-to-the-point” listening experience. And lately songs that are LONG, that go on and on, seem to reflect the long, long ongoing-ness I’m recognizing. Like, “Innagaddadavida” Iron Butterfly. Music seems to help lately. Another one I play over and over is “The Counterclockwise Circle Dance” by Sacred Spirits. Oh, and then there are Bach’s “Goldberg Variations.” One of the few musical things I could bear to listen to at the beginning of this; I THINK because it’s un-emotional. It’s soothing.
This is not going to end, is it. Not really even needing a question mark. nope, it’s not going to end.
I am weird to myself! Whatever I’m doing, it’s not the usual “me” doing it.