I sort of like the word widow. I know others who do not like it at all but I find the identification to be comforting. I feel like it tells the world something about me.
I remember when we first learned my husband’s cancer was back and that we’d run out of option. At some point I was doing laundry and became so upset that I just dropped everything and ran into the room where Dave was. I started hugging him and crying and said, “I don’t want you to leave me.” And he said, “I’m not exactly leaving you.”
It’s a comfort to me to know that my husband would be here with me if he could. So, back to the word widow–I know it’s probably rather petty of me but I like to have a word that says “yes, I’m single but not by choice on anyone’s part.”
My name is Jill. I became a widow on July 22, 2011 so it’s been almost a month now. My husband died from metastatic bladder cancer at the age of 52. The whole process of diagnosis, treatment, and dying took close to two years. It seemed to be a period of complete removal from the world. I interacted with people but I felt very alone.
My son was 16 when his father died so I also worry about him. I can tell already that we are grieving differently. I guess that’s normal since he’s a son and a teenager and I’m a wife and 53.
I thought that perhaps I could write a blog about my experiences as a widow. When I started to poke around on the web about this topic, I quickly realized that a lot of widows had the same idea. So, hopefully, there’s room for one more blog about the whole grief process.