A Smiling Young Widow

Grief is the most universal human experience (sad fact, everyone will have to die at some point) yet it’s also such a personal experience. We all grieve differently and we will all have different relationships to grieve. I read early on that it’s never a good idea to compare grief, don’t be trying to say one person’s loss is bigger or more devastating than someone else’s. Sound advice I’d say. When Tom died there were a lot of people who felt a big loss. A lot of people left to grieve. I hear that country song “Standing Room Only” come on now and think of Tom’s packed funeral and how many people he touched in his life. We are all technically missing the same person, but in some very different ways and very different relationships.

There is a constant loneliness that comes along with becoming a widow. I miss having my rock, my confidant, the person I would share everything with. I miss all the adventures we would go on together with ease, our routines established and knowing what each other would like. I miss our relaxing weekend routines and our constant texts/calls back and forth when we were apart. There’s all these shared understandings, jokes, names, phrases that don’t even mean anything to others. I miss all of Tom, even the parts that would annoy the heck out of me (like what I wouldn’t give to see his backpack laying on the kitchen table again!) I can’t even put into words all the ways that Tom’s death has left holes in my day-to-day life.

Then there’s the huge crushing blow that comes along with losing a life partner that was meant to be there for all the dreams and plans for the future we’d talked about. That shared biography we were in the midst of was just ours. No one else’s. Now it’s just mine. I don’t want that. No one else knows our relationship or knows the whole story of us. No one is left here to reassure me, to co-remember all the things we did or said, to keep the love alive. So yeah, it makes sense that loneliness can take over.

Then I feel kind of bad thinking I’m lonely. I have SO much support surrounding me. Through this whole journey I really have had the best support crew. From friends and family dropping everything to surround us with love at the hospital. The snacks, drinks and care packages that would just show up thoughtfully with things I hadn’t even known I needed. The friends who drove down to our house so I’d have something to wear for the funeral and to pick-up stuff to get me through until I could make it back myself. Countless meals delivered, many delicious Italian Centre goodies dropped-off, a text message to say London Fogs were waiting on the doorstep. Such thoughtful messages and cards came in, like sharing how proud Tom was to be married to me or a story of how Tom had first described me when we started to date. Tom’s friends checking on me, meeting up for a visit, or being willing to jump in to help with any task. People willing to come see me at our house, even though I totally get how difficult that is to do without Tom here. The many friends and family that opened up their homes for me to visit. The neighbours who quietly took on helping with our yard work. The texts, funny memes and phone calls to check-in. The family and friends who have jumped in to join on adventures, knowing the huge gap I was feeling. My sister who basically road tripped the entire summer with me. I have made the most wonderful fellow widow friend out of this, and appreciate the mutual understanding of this journey we’ve both had to go through. I can’t even list all the ways I have been and continue to be supported.

Lucky to have the absolute best support system, still nothing can ever replace Tom. Sometimes I definitely let myself feel the loneliness and lean into how devastating that is. However, I also know I have to pull myself back out of that. Reminding myself we humans are not meant to take a grief journey alone. It can be so helpful to connect with other people who are grieving for Tom. A reminder that actually I’m not totally alone in missing this amazing guy. We can swap stories, “oh did he tell you about this one” or “you probably remember this time too”. Send old photos back and forth. Use the Tom phrases and jokes. Imagine what Tom would have had to say about something or what he would do. Keep our shared buddy alive together.