Widows & Widowers Support Group
This community is dedicated to those who have lost a husband, wife, or partner. Anything is open for discussion here, with the hope that we can focus on grief, bereavement, life after loss, and continuing on after a great loss.

For those new here in the last couple of months. (years?)
I just came across it again recently and thought I would put it up for those interested to read. It’s lengthy but well worth the time.
This is something that has been posted and reposted here several times over the years. I believe it was written by a man from Chicago around 2010; but I’m not certain of that. His screen name here was “Wifeless”. There are ones here who would know more about it. He had allowed it to by copied and passed about but not for profit.
A Unique and Devastating Loss (by WifeLess)
With the death of our spouse (which here includes fiancé, significant other,
partner, etc.), we grieve the loss of so much more than someone we merely
loved or were close to, like a parent, grandparent, sibling, friend or pet. We
grieve instead the loss of: The one we loved most deeply, cherished and felt
the very closest to. The one we swore commitment to in that unique human
bond of marriage, which many consider sacred. The one we shared the
ultimate partnership with to live as one and perhaps bear children with. The
one who embodied our true sense of home. The one who was our best friend
and who was to be our companion for life. The one we confided in, depended
on and trusted most. The one who really knew, understood and accepted us
as we were. The one we felt safe and protected with. The one we shared
private moments and intimate feelings with. The one we mated souls with.
But it is not just that this most precious person has been torn from our life,
as unbearably heartbreaking as that alone is. With the death of our spouse,
and only of our spouse, many additional profound losses must be grieved as
well. For we also suffer: The loss of who we ourselves were while with them.
The loss of the couple we were once half of. The loss of the life partnership
we once formed. The loss of the husband or wife role we once embraced.
The loss of the life we once lived. The loss of the plans we once made. The
loss of the dreams we once shared. The loss of the future we once envisioned.
Amidst all this, we are also suddenly confronted with many hardships we
never expected to face at this point in our life. Besides financial survival,
increased domestic burdens and perhaps single parenting, additional
challenges less apparent to others but all too real and terrifying to us. We
must now find it within ourselves: To create a new identity. To redefine
our role in life. To establish a new connection to the world. To build a new
network of social relationships. To discover a new sense of purpose. To
formulate a new set of goals. To decide on a new direction for our future.
And we must accomplish these without dishonoring our former life, but while
suppressing bittersweet memories of that life, so that they not hold us back.
Memories of happier times mostly, but also those of our spouses death,
either sudden and shocking or after prolonged illness. We must further
endure the feelings of guilt and disloyalty that follow us as we attempt to
forget and move forward, but with our heartstrings tied so tightly to the past.
And all these tasks must be taken on at the lowest possible point of our life in
the worst state imaginable. When we are the weakest, most vulnerable, most
insecure, most isolated, most heartbroken and most emotionally exhausted
we have ever been. Without that one person we long ago became accustomed
to relying on to help get us through life's greatest challenges. The one who,
just by being there, would have provided us emotional comfort and moral
support to draw upon, as well as the strength and confidence we need to
complete those tasks and so much more. But now we face all this alone.
Profound indeed is the death of our spouse. Unique and devastating. For
nearly all of us, much more catastrophic to our life than the loss of any other.
And truly comparable, many of us widows and widowers often feel, to one
other death only. Ours.
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Old Hillbilly Wisdom:Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight and bull-strong.Keep skunks, bankers, and politicians at a distance.Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.Words that soak into your ears are whispered, not yelled.The best sermons are lived, not preached.If you don't take the time to do it right, you'll find the...


That's why grieving took a while to recover. It took time and a lot of muscle memory to realize my old role was no longer needed. This is a major heartbreak in itself, and the cause of a lot of tears. It was hard to accept living life without the one friend, one confidant I entrusted. It was hard to keep my thoughts back to myself and stop talking to her picture. It was hard to process memories. It was hard to laugh. It was hard to have hope. It was hard to have trust again. It was hard to rebuild life and rebuild relationships and friendships, even at the best of times, yet alone being depressed and scared.
And then there is yearning. I longed to have those feelings back. There is nowhere for these feelings for go. Then I felt guilty for having these thoughts, and lonely for having those feelings. It is a bear.
Sorry for rambling.
Thanks, George.
D
But for some of us, there will be no spouse to grieve those of us that have remained behind, alone, when we die.
Geo.
I hope he found some kind of peace and happiness since that time.
Hugs...
I remembered there was a story (and I'm paraphrasing it) about a woman was asked to list twenty names on a board that means the most to her. She would put names of her friends, relatives, children, parents and her husband. She was then asked to remove one of the names each time. At the end of the exercise, only her children's and her husband's name remained on the board, and it's her turn to remove another one. She thought for a long time, sobbing in tears, and finally removed her child's name. She said, "I love my parents but they were no longer with me. My child was precious but eventually they had their own life. My husband was the one who will be there for me for the rest of my life"
My view on my death has certainly been changed. It is seen as less of a leaving and more of a reunion. I'm not saying death is turning to be a positive, but there is an element of hope in it.
I wonder where he is now, if he is still around and still wifeless. Just curious.
Still Geo, thanks for posting it. It’s very touching.
D
Blessings,
Lori