As a new widow (that word sounds strange and startling) I have had many new insights. In my work in end of life, the focus has been on approaching death. Grief has been an afterthought, not a primary issue. With Jack’s death, I know how powerful grief is.
Emotionally, now a month after Jack’s death, I am still kind of numb. I haven’t cried since his death. The tears are generally behind my eyes. I can feel them but can’t or won’t let them out.
I am not my gentle, understanding self. I am impatient. I am not necessarily being sociable or even being polite. I am sharp and edgy. That is not who I consider myself to be.
Little things I never thought of before have come to light. Who do you talk to when you get up in the morning? Baxter, my cat, gets my words. Who do you eat with, sit at the table with, watch TV with? No one other than Baxter.
How do you go to bed at night? Close the door to the bedroom? Lock the bedroom door? Leave a light on?
For 65 years, Jack has been in my life. He was part of everything and I didn’t even realize it. Not only did he help shape who I have become, but more importantly, he filled my days and nights. He was part of my every day. And now he is not.
Now I am feeding the birds, squirrels and his fish. Now I am restocking the toilet paper, emptying the trash, and emptying the dishwasher – all his chores.
Now I have to learn how to be a widow. How to create a new life, a new way of being. I am truly alone. Yes, family and friends are amazing, comforting, and oh so necessary, but when everyone has gone home I am alone - except for Baxter cat.
I am sharing this walk in my shoes with you in a blog because, having known the intellectual side of grief from my decades of work, I now know the emotional side of grief. That part of grief no one can know until they personally lose someone close to them.
My hope in sharing these personal thoughts is that those of you who are grieving can find yourself in my experiences. I hope you see the normalness of your own thoughts and feelings.
Something More… about The Part of Grief You Don't Know -- Until You Do
If you, or someone you know is grieving, I have a booklet that can provide some salve- My Friend, I Care: The Grief Experience. This booklet provides gentle guidance through the normal stages of grief and offers suggestions for moving forward into a meaningful life. It is part of the discounted End of Life Guideline Series of booklets.
Here's a review for My Friend, I Care: The Grief Experience-
Perfect resource for those in grief or helping the grieving
48 comments
Dear Barbara, thank you for your most touching and intimate sharing. You help me remember, time and again, the preciousness of life and love and connection. My heartfelt condolences to you as you grieve the loss of your beloved Jack.
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BK Books replied:
Ria, thank you for reaching out to me and sharing your thoughts. Blessings! Barbara.
You hit the nail on the head: you can’t think your way through grief, you have to feel it!
I thought I was ready. I wasn’t. It just hits you at a different level. And it’s very lonely, especially at night.
Give yourself some grace. This is a journey of a lifetime.
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BK Books replied:
Thank you, Mark, for sharing. Blessings in your continued journey. Barbara
First, I am sorry for your loss of your beloved Jack. My situation is a little different and, in many ways, traumatic. In October of this year, my 14-month-old beautiful grandson died as a result of being accidentally smothered by his father. He was perfect and had no health issues whatsoever. I am not only grieving this loss but also grieving for my daughter, his mother who is struggling with guilt.
There is no manual, there are no words and time does not heal all wounds, it just looks different. Like you I’m grateful for my family and friends, but at the end of the day, HE is still gone. The healing may take a lifetime. I have connected my daughter to a parent support group and our family is rallying around her.
I’m a palliative nurse clinician and I use to say to individuals who have lost a child whether minor, 22 years, 40 years, or 60 years old, “I can’t imagine what you are going through,” to “I now know what it feels like to be in your space.” I also teach a grief module to nurses through ELNEC. I have now been put in that place of understanding firsthand the feelings of raw grief and wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
The following month my family suffered another loss of my dog Josie. She was my soul dog and helped me get through some difficult times and was loved by my whole family. Just like life, grief is a journey and I learn more and more every day from others and gather tools to assist with coping.
Thank you for your continued work to help and support those during end of life and the journey beyond.
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BK Books replied:
Christine, what a hill you are climbing! I see you are helping many who is supporting you? Blessings to you and your family. Barbara
I’m so sorry to hear about your loss of Jack, clearly your soulmate and your teammate. When I lost my husband to ALS in 2004, the best way I could describe my grief was that it appeared like an uninvited and peculiar beast. I would be driving along and all of a sudden that “beast” would come to me much like a sneeze, totally unexpected and devastating for a few minutes. I remember thinking that cliché “Lord help me make it through today” suddenly sounded so ridiculous! There was no way I could imagine the end of the day coming without multiple request to God to simply help me continue to breathe for five more minutes. Sometimes I would set a timer for five minutes so I could see that I had, indeed, lived through those minutes, breathe deep and moved forward until the next “sneeze“. I was so sad in the present, knew I could not go back to the past where Bob was part of this world and did not want to look forward at a future without him. I felt displaced. I was sure that being around my grandchildren would bring me peace and joy in Bob’s absence but actually, I found myself being impatient and sharp with them. I had no emotional reserves to tolerate an innocent sibling squabble. One day, my 6 y/o granddaughter said the wisest thing that helped me get through those weeks and months. She said “Mimi, we all miss Papa, but our lives every day stayed pretty much the same. Your life changed because now you have to do all of his jobs and yours. That must be hard.” She was right, not only was I grieving, but I was tired. Grief is exhausting. Her words gave me the courage to change, starting with some of those chores he wasn’t here to do. I hired someone to come in once a week to do the yard, clean out the garbage can, any of those other household jobs that in the weeks after his death served to reminded me of what I had lost. I expected to feel that loss during family get-togethers or holidays, but I was absolutely unprepared that filling up my bird-feeder would cause me to break down in tears missing him. I would love to recommend a book for you. It’s called The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion, a remarkable book that will speak to anyone who has ever loved and lost a husband. Much like your wonderful books, I was able to see that my experience was fairly normal. Most of all, it helped me look forward to something I didn’t consider possible… simply the act of looking forward – without dread but with some anticipation of joy.
Your own books are a godsend! I’m a hospice nurse with 12 patients in a nursing home. The biggest barrier to my work in hospice that I have found is the lack of hospice knowledge and expectations in our healthcare settings. Your books explain our vision for EOL so clearly, explaining that nursing a hospice patient is different than nursing a patient who expects to get better. As a Christmas gift to myself this year, (hoping to make my job less challenging) I made an investment in staff education. I want the goals set for my patients such as comfort foods, eating or not eating, pain relief, etc. to be recognized, understood and honored by their staff. I gave away over 175 of your wonderful booklets to the staff at the nursing home and the hospice company I work for as their Christmas presents from me. Already I’ve had numerous staff stop me as I visit my patients and say they have learn so much about “the hospice way” from your booklets. Please know we understand your need to take time for yourself during this transition. When you are ready, please continue your work, your contributions have made such a difference to so many families and professionals. May God bless you with peace and joy…”for the next 5 minutes” and for years to come!
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BK Books replied:
Hi Jane, you’ve described so much of what we grievers experience. I am pleased that there is a nursing facility that has its own hospice nurse. (should be requirement for all facilities). Your Christmas gift to your fellow workers was a needed gift indeed. I’ve just written a blog about nursing facilities and EOL education. I think you will identify with it. Thank you for sharing and blessings to you in the good work you are doing. Barbara PS: I did get your other note.
Dearest Barbara. I am so so sorry for your loss. The first line of this blog really hit me. I hate the word widow, and the fact that I am one. The first time I had to mark it on some formal papers I broke down. I lost my husband, in June 2021 and grief is still such a big part of every day. Yes, it has become less prevalent, but still very present. my husband, Tom was such a big part of my life for 36 years. We were married for 33.5 years. Your blog was shared with me this morning. Through an acquaintance. I met a death Doula recently and she and I really connected. That was not the reason for our meeting but I am so glad to have met her. I will continue to follow you and look into your books that you offer. Another recent find that has been extremely helpful to me in an odd way is Anderson Cooper’s blog, “all there is”. As you stated, you really don’t know the depth of grief until you’ve experienced it. In the first few months of my grief, someone had the audacity to compare the death of their dog to the death of my husband. I became so angry at this person, although the impact of her words didn’t really hit me until hours later.
Thank you for reading this if you do and please take care of yourself.
Jenni Laffey
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BK Books replied:
Hi Jenni, thank you for writing to me and sharing your grief. I am finding that widows and widowers can comfort each other because they are wearing the same shoes. End of Life doulas are a gift with their knowledge and empathy. Blessings to you! Barbara
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