I’m Leslie. In April 2023 I became a widow. It’s a label no one wants. A club no one wants to join. Ever. Especially when you’re in your 30s. This is not how life is supposed to go. My amazing husband and best friend, Tom, died at 36 years old.
This whole experience has been devastating, life-altering and often still doesn’t seem real. Yet there’s times when I have my same old smile on my face. Sometimes it’s a real smile, sometimes it’s a mask I’ll wear as I go out in the world. I still laugh, like for real laugh. I am able to appreciate the beauty in nature, connect with friends and family, or swap joking small talk with a stranger. An experience like this rips a person wide open, it breaks a heart wide open.
There are moments when it hits me that this hand I’ve been dealt is in fact really as terrible as it seems. No positive spin to put on it. I remember one night in particular. I had climbed into bed cuddled up to a heating pad and one of Tom’s old hoodies with tears streaming down my face – I was hit with how sad this whole thing is. If I saw a friend going through this, my heart would break for them. Cue the work to give myself more love in this journey. It just plain sucks, and there’s no easy solution to it or a simple way out. I wouldn’t wish this heartbreak on anyone. It’s moments like that where I crumble, where the brave smile and my courage fall apart leaving me to sit with how devastating this is. To feel the magnitude of losing Tom, losing us, losing me. I realize I have brought a lot of privilege into my grief journey and I certainly do still have gratitude for what I have in my life. Sometimes you gotta squash that toxic positivity though and acknowledge the really hard things. To sit in uncomfortable, dark feelings and give them their time too. Seems to me there’s a grief sweet spot found in the space between, in honouring both the dark and light, with avoiding getting stuck on either. The goal of this blog is to give a bit of both too.
For me a smile and humor aren’t something to just hide behind. I am honored by my Blackfoot name aasisikskiakii (smiling lady). I value being able to find the lighter side in life. It is a gift to connect through a laugh, to share a smile, to not take life too seriously. Tom was totally about that too – he loved to roast and be roasted. He would make some jokes at the most inappropriate times. I can replay so many moments of me cringing “Tom, is that really something that’s ok to joke about?!” I think for many people my humour after suddenly losing my husband might also be considered a bit of inappropriate timing, but hey it’s a survival mechanism and I know Tom would approve.
I never would have thought I’d be someone with a blog. This has become a place for me to share a bit of my story of what’s behind the brave smile of a young widow. I write largely for myself, but maybe others will want to read it or maybe one day another young widow who is unfortunately joining the club will stumble upon this and find even an ounce of comfort. I’m no expert, but I’ve learnt a lot along the way already. I’ll infuse lots of Tom stories and humour throughout too (he would often sign his name Thom – he loved to write it out that way largely just to mess with people – so consider that interchangeable!).
Grief isn’t just all sadness and tears.
A Smiling Young Widow 