It Depends
I met a woman today. She was quiet, withdrawn, and here I was trying to sell her something. We talked for a while about the product I was trying to sell her. She seemed interested, but distracted. She looked as if she'd lost everything, like she was dead inside. I recognized this look because I'd been wearing it for a few years myself. It's the widow's look. It's the one where you pretend to care, where you put on this happy look only it doesn't reach your eyes.
She was starting over-- Looking for things to fill her life, her home. After a time, she admitted that she was divorcing. Seeing the look in her eyes I knew it wasn't something she wanted. It was something her husband wanted. Now, she was lost, the life kicked out of her.
Let's call her Amy. She's about my age, slightly built, her vulneralblity apparent to anyone. She's the type of woman who let her husband do everything for her. She didn't know how to balance a checkbook, how to take care of the house. I got the impression that if she saw a bug crawl across her floor she'd call for her husband.
She made me rethink what I'd been saying since I became a widow. I'd been divorced twice. For me it was no big thing. I'd been independent, young, able to take care of myself. And both men were still alive. In fact, I'd divorced the man I later remarried. Now I'm a widow. And like most widows I thought divorce was so much different from widowhood. When you're divorced you can always get back together. I'd get angry when I would hear divorced women saying that it was the same as widowhood. I'd set them straight quickly. Losing your husband is like being sawed in half. Divorced is like a blessed release. What did one have to do with the other?
Now, after meeting Amy, I'm not so sure. Maybe it depends on the circumstances. Amy was being left. And she was being left by a man she obviously still loved. So maybe that's the difference between my divorce and her divorce. I wasn't being left behind. I hadn't been replaced with another woman. I was doing the walking and glad of it. But, Amy---here is a woman who had been loved and who loved her husband. Here is a woman in her 50s having to start over and not knowing how to do it. And like me, her love was gone.
So, is divorce and widowhood the same? No. No it isn't. And is a bus and a truck the same? No. No they are not. But if either one of them runs over your foot, isn't the pain about the same? Does it really matter which runs over your foot if the pain is so intense that you can hardly breath? So, maybe the answer is it depends? It depends on how much you loved a person and how the marriage ended. And maybe, just maybe, it doesn't really matter because pain is pain no matter the source.
She was starting over-- Looking for things to fill her life, her home. After a time, she admitted that she was divorcing. Seeing the look in her eyes I knew it wasn't something she wanted. It was something her husband wanted. Now, she was lost, the life kicked out of her.
Let's call her Amy. She's about my age, slightly built, her vulneralblity apparent to anyone. She's the type of woman who let her husband do everything for her. She didn't know how to balance a checkbook, how to take care of the house. I got the impression that if she saw a bug crawl across her floor she'd call for her husband.
She made me rethink what I'd been saying since I became a widow. I'd been divorced twice. For me it was no big thing. I'd been independent, young, able to take care of myself. And both men were still alive. In fact, I'd divorced the man I later remarried. Now I'm a widow. And like most widows I thought divorce was so much different from widowhood. When you're divorced you can always get back together. I'd get angry when I would hear divorced women saying that it was the same as widowhood. I'd set them straight quickly. Losing your husband is like being sawed in half. Divorced is like a blessed release. What did one have to do with the other?
Now, after meeting Amy, I'm not so sure. Maybe it depends on the circumstances. Amy was being left. And she was being left by a man she obviously still loved. So maybe that's the difference between my divorce and her divorce. I wasn't being left behind. I hadn't been replaced with another woman. I was doing the walking and glad of it. But, Amy---here is a woman who had been loved and who loved her husband. Here is a woman in her 50s having to start over and not knowing how to do it. And like me, her love was gone.
So, is divorce and widowhood the same? No. No it isn't. And is a bus and a truck the same? No. No they are not. But if either one of them runs over your foot, isn't the pain about the same? Does it really matter which runs over your foot if the pain is so intense that you can hardly breath? So, maybe the answer is it depends? It depends on how much you loved a person and how the marriage ended. And maybe, just maybe, it doesn't really matter because pain is pain no matter the source.
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