The Widows
There we were…the three widows.
One is 57, another 58 and another 61.
It was the 58 year old who was standing in the living room, facing family, friends and long ago colleagues of her husband. He had died of cancer just a few days earlier, at the age of 60. She was amazingly strong, telling stories of how they met, fell madly in love and married just three months later. She chuckled when she said they’d never done anything that spontaneous since. And that was 35 years ago. They had a life full of wonderful adventures. Two adopted kids who were the center of their dad’s world. Two kids now, who won’t have Dad’s wisdom to lean on.
I stood there listening to the stories and to tell the truth, I could only think about how in the days and weeks and months ahead, this new widow will come to grips with the reality of her loss. I wanted to hold her and tell her, the nights will be hard because the memories have a clear and quiet path to the heart in the darkness. I want her to know the decision making is no longer shared. It will be up to her now to make the right choices about family and life all together.
I saw the tears roll slowly down the cheek of the 57 year old standing next to me. That was her just ten months ago. Now she was remembering the pain and heart ache, just listening, as her friend reminisced.
Three widows. Three husbands, one 64, one 60 and one 53, gone from cancer.
Three widows.
July 11, 2012 @ 12:30 pm
Powerful words. Three widows, three strong women, three heart-breaks. I hope the healing comes eventually. Clearly there’s much to learn, some of which you’ve just shown us. It reminds me very much of a post one healing which I read today from our blogger (and also a widow), Sandy of Flying WG.
July 10, 2012 @ 5:35 pm
Laurie,
I am a confessed lurker who has been reading this blog since July 2008, when my 53 year old husband died of lung cancer. Your words and the words of other folks here have seen me through the most difficult of times. When I found you and Leroy that summer, it was the first time I discovered some other kind souls describing everything I was going through: hospice, hospital beds, summer olympics, lovely visits from friends and physicians. Funny, I felt so connected to you. Thank you for continuing this blog . I will hold you in my heart these next several weeks.
Take care,
Susan Laub
July 9, 2012 @ 8:16 pm
I suspect three strong women, able to lean on each other and share out the grief, share out the pain, and when it comes share the happiness. May she have y’all to lean on and share with.
July 9, 2012 @ 7:59 pm
Strength in numbers…sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.
July 9, 2012 @ 6:48 pm
The sadness will always be a joint remembrance but your collective strength has been forged in the fires of profound loss. Live strong Ladies!!!!