Betty Rollin on how to talk to a widow: Betty says don’t assume she’s over it just because a year has gone by. I say, ask me about my garden. Read more.
Widowed
Jon died unexpectedly at the age of 79. I thought we'd have many more years together. We won't.
Widowed: I Get to Have It My Way Now
Jon is gone. He has forfeited his right to have a say in things. Now that I’m widowed. I get to have it my way, 100 percent of the time. Read more.
Widowed: ‘Let Us Tend Our Garden’
Translating Voltaire for my backyard: “We must cultivate our garden,” feels bossy and rife with certitude. I prefer, “Let us tend our garden.” Read more.
Widowed: My Husband Keeps Dying on Me
It’s been a full eighteen months since Jon’s death, but even now my husband keeps dying on me. Read more.
How to Describe My Late Husband? I Can’t Find the Words
How to describe my late husband? I can tell the Jon stories, but when it comes to evoking the singularity that was Jon, words fail. Read more.
Widowed: It’s Jon the Old Guy I Miss the Most
Widowed, I miss Jon the old guy of our last years together — when it had become clear we’d be sticking together till death did us part. Read more.
Widowed: No Dreary Memorial Brick for My Husband
A memorial brick for Jon in the new neighborhood plaza? Yes, but only if it could also bear the names of the people who loved him. Read more.