Widow, best I could figure it out, Widow was a white haired elderly woman living in the same house that Wife lived in with all the furnishings and decor remaining exactly as Wife had them. She spends her days alone, going through the motions of her former life, pining for Husband and biding her time until she joins him in bliss.
Is this what I'm expected to do with the rest of my life? Is this who I am supposed to be now?!
Oh, hell, no!
If I must play the role of Widow, I will not adhere to these expectations. I will not be the ‘grieving widow’ casting a shadow over everyone and everything with my sad cloud. I reject the pitious greetings and delicate questions, and I refuse to melt away into obscurity.
As I pondered these things, I allowed myself - not culture - to decide what Widow might look like for me. If I wasn’t going to sit in a rocker and watch life go by, what was I going to do? What would Widow look like for me?
So far, here is what Widow has looked like for me:
Perhaps this is just what I look like now, and Widow is really just one of those bullet points.
The more things I did on my own, the more confidence I gained in myself. The tearful reality that I no longer had anyone to check in with taught me to check in with myself. In this, I was proving to myself that I actually could survive - even thrive - without Rod. Even if I didn’t like the reason.
Moving forward, not moving on.