At a big family gathering in Michigan last month, I sat myself down next to the widow of one of my cousins.
“Tell me, Barbara,” she said. “Does it get any easier?”
Her husband had died six months earlier. Mine had been gone two and a half years. So, yes, I had an answer to her question.
But I didn’t want to share it. I hedged. I obfuscated. I changed the subject.
I didn’t want to give the bad news to my cousin’s widow, which is — yes, it does get better.
Widowhood gets easier over time, and that distresses me.
Widowed — Yes, It Does Get Easier, Sad to Say
A few weeks ago, in the course of sorting through old family photos before sending them off to be digitized, I came across a photo of Jon. There he was, looking straight at me from a photo I’d taken of him. It was Jon. The real Jon.
But instead of breaking into noisy tears at the sight of him as had been my wont for the past couple of years, my response on that day was, “Hey. There’s Jon. The good guy I spent fifty years of my life with. That’s my husband there in that photo. That’s Jon.”
I did not cry at the sight of him — which alarmed me. The loud, desperate tears that had burst forth unbidden nearly every day of my life since Jon died in 2021 had gone missing.
Those Wild, Intense Tears
I have not had Jon all these months since his death. But I have had those tears, those wild, intense tears.
They weren’t Jon, but they kept him close. They bound the missing Jon to me. As long as I cried for Jon, he couldn’t get away. He was still there.
And now, as grief subsides, I feel my husband slipping away from me. I feel I’m losing him all over again.
Where is Jon, anyway? Look for him with me at “Breaking News: The Afterlife is ‘Fantastic” Also, “My Husband Died and Denial and Distraction Are My Go-To States for Now.”
Dear Barb: I save all your blogs to re-read later and often share with friends who have lost spouses. One of my dearest friends here in Puerto Rico died suddenly about 16 months ago. Her wife is also one of my best friends. She is starting to make her condo hers instead of theirs and is trying not to feel guilty about it. I am sharing your blog with her about it becoming easier in order to help her in that process. Thank you for all the people you have helped without even knowing it!!!
Thank you, Lynn. I’ve noticed that some things I’m willing to let go of quickly, others I keep on keeping. For example, it was only a matter of weeks between Jon’s death and the day I moved all his stuff out of our closet and into a closet down the hall. I had been coveting that closet space of his for years. Other stuff of his I still have on display — his American flag with the peace symbol where the stars are supposed to be, for one. It was never my cup of tea, but it was sooo Jon. It makes me smile.
i’m glad for you that you didn’t cry. but i did. well done, as always.
Big hug.
You’re not losing Jon!! So many wonderful, funny happy memories as you go through the pictures!
And luckily I have tons of pictures — with many of Jon’s different expressions. When I take pictures, I don’t ask people to smile. I try to catch them unawares. And that is paying off with photos like this one of Jon looking at me a bit ironically.