Widows Want You to Know: Messages from The Memory Circle
When a longtime attendee in my Living with Loss grief support group asked if I would consider leading a widows-only group, I was intrigued.
She was right. These women have a very particular language and understanding they speak amongst themselves. I appreciate their wisdom and humor, and they help me better understand this deep and particular sorrow from a new perspective.
The power of widowed women gathering in community has been incredible to witness. I admire how they lift one another and see each other so clearly. They are in many ways so very alike, despite their different marriages, ages and stages in life, and familial relationships. No topic has been off limits. From sex and dating to still having all of his clothes in the closet years later – and everything in between – it’s all shared in the group.
Recently, I posed a question in our session: What do you wish people knew about your grief? Here are some of their answers, reflecting what they want the world to know about widows:
“I want to be invited, but I may not come. Don’t count me out because I am no longer a couple. Let me decide. And if my single status makes you uncomfortable, well, that is your problem.”
“Say his name! I still want to talk about ‘Dave.’ I want to tell you stories and I want to hear the ones you remember about him. Saying his name does not make me more sad – not saying his name does.”
“When you try to change a service, let’s say the cable offerings, they will ask for the person named on the bill. Even if you say they are dead at the very beginning of said call. If your dead spouse is the named entity, they will ask for proof that he is dead. They need a death certificate. The business of tending to a death is wildly difficult, expensive, and confounding. Folks at the end of these calls are NOT grief-informed and should be!”
“The micro-griefs of the above add up to keeping your cable as it is for two years until you go to change the name on the account in person, with death certificate in hand, and they say they don’t need it. You intend to write to said cable company and ask if they know how much this policy hurts.”
“You need dozens of death certificates.”
“You may cry at the car dealer – and that is more than OK. Know that it does not mean you are unhinged. This is just more a ‘him’ job than a ‘me’ job and it sucks that I need to do this alone.”
“I may want to be fixed up on a date, or I may not want to be fixed up. Please don’t ask me about it in the first year.”
“How he died is a lot less interesting or important than how he lived. But, I want to talk about both. Know that it is always more about how you ask. Are you drilling me with questions, fodder for gossip – or are you truly here to care?”
“If ‘I can’t imagine’ or ‘I don’t know what I would do if…’ is the start of your sentence, please refrain.
“Know that I do many household jobs and carry responsibilities alone that were once handled by two. Be patient me with. Be impressed. We built this life as a team. It is a two-person gig, now being covered by one.”
“I may or may not want help. I don’t know exactly what I need. Keep asking, and make a specific offer.”
“I have not only lost my husband, but I have lost so much that he stood for: values, income, physical strength, hobbies, my hang-out friend, support system, laugh partner…”
“Part of me also died with my husband. I am learning who I am without him.”
“I am the keeper of our memories. Some things about me only he knew.”
“It is hard as hell. I am getting used to doing hard well. And I don’t always want to.”
“There are so many secondary losses as a widow. Ones you cannot imagine. Ones I wish you understood, but I know you can’t without being a widow.”
“I have lost my emergency contact.”
“The world is largely grief illiterate.”
Perhaps most of all, the person who would be getting these ladies through the hardest parts of this grief is the very guy they are each grieving.
Oh, and one more thing: they also want a new name for “widowhood.” Most of them told me don’t care for the moniker at all and think it makes them sound older, weak, and sad. They say we can do better – or do without it.
I always say groups are a wisdom exchange and have never believed that to be truer than in the hearts and shared sage advice of the incredible women in my spouse loss group. If their experience resonates with you, I hope you’ll pass this on far and wide – and find a grief group of your own. We’d welcome you at The Memory Circle.
