Don’t Call Me a Widow – Part 55

Another Week

Monday Morning Reflections on Grief, Hope, and Choosing to Live

I woke up this Monday morning feeling especially sad after reading a post from another widow who shared that she no longer wants to live. My heart aches for her.

Mental health professionals often say that when someone shares feelings this intense, they are reaching out for help. Yet this anonymous woman explained that she is already in therapy twice a week and has contacted her medical team, but she still feels unseen, unheard, and trapped in unimaginable emotional pain.

I wish I had the answers for her—and for anyone who has ever felt so overwhelmed by grief that death seems like the only escape. The truth is none of us truly knows what comes after this life. What I do know is that, despite the pain, the loneliness, and the heartbreak, I choose to live. If I could, I would gently take the hand of every grieving person and walk that path beside them.

I lost my husband just six months ago. The day I took Richard to the emergency room; I had no idea it would be the last time we would walk into a hospital together. One moment he had a sore throat. Then came a COVID diagnosis, followed by double pneumonia. Without warning, he went into cardiac arrest. Although the medical team was able to restart his heart, he never regained consciousness. After a week in the ICU, I had to say goodbye.

Richard was my husband, my best friend, and my constant companion. We built a life where we were deeply connected while still encouraging one another to be ourselves. When a relationship like that ends, the emptiness left behind is beyond words.

Perhaps it was my upbringing, or perhaps it was my own fear of death, but while Richard lay in the ICU, I never stopped believing he might come back to me. I encouraged him, talked to him, and hoped with everything I had. When I finally understood that he wasn’t going to return in the way I longed for, I realized I had another choice—to carry his love, his kindness, and his spirit with me as I continued living.

That choice hasn’t made life easy. Grief is lonely. Acknowledging that loneliness is an important part of healing. I’ve learned that only I can create a life where love and peace exist alongside my sorrow. No one else can do that work for me.

I often read stories from widows and widowers who feel abandoned by family or friends. That pain is real. But even in that loss, there can be an opportunity to build new relationships with people who understand us, who value us, and with whom we can share mutual support. Life continually changes, and each of us must decide how we will meet those changes.

Richard and I were together for 44 years and married for 42. That’s more than half of my lifetime. Learning to be single again has been incredibly difficult. But if I’m honest, marriage wasn’t always easy either. Even with my best friend and the love of my life, there were seasons when we’d sit across from each other at the dinner table with very little to say. During those times, we learned to find a new rhythm together. We adjusted, grew, and kept moving toward each other instead of away from one another.

After Richard died, my challenge became finding a new rhythm on my own—a beat that would carry me through this next chapter of life.

Every day I take another step forward. Some days those steps are small. Some days they are stronger. But I keep moving because I believe there is still purpose in my life.

If you are grieving today, I hope you’ll keep moving too. Reach out. Accept a hand when one is offered. Offer your own hand when you are able. Healing doesn’t happen overnight, and it doesn’t mean forgetting the person you love. It means learning how to carry that love with you while continuing to live.

None of us should have to walk this journey alone.

“You’ll Never Walk Alone” Lyrics

When you walk through a storm
Keep your chin up high
And don’t be afraid of the dark.
At the end of the storm
Is a golden sky
And the sweet, silver song of a lark.

Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart,
And you’ll never walk alone!
You’ll never walk alone.

“You’ll Never Walk Alone” (Rodgers/Hammerstein II)

© 1945, Copyright Renewed, Williamson Music Company (ASCAP) c/o Concord Music Publishing.
All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.

Please join me on my journey.

#YesICan Coaching with Karen
Email: Kh.yesican1@gmail.com