The Expert

 Mary Francis runs the carefully curated widow's FB group I'm in and she ran her most recent blogpost   in the group this morning. We're not allowed to share anything specific from the group but here are some paragraphs from her website.

from the Rock Hall in Cleveland

"The death of your spouse will put you into your own uniquely grief journey.  The truth is everyone’s marriage is different.  Therefore, it should come as no surprise that your grief will not necessarily be the same as another widow’s.

Your loss is influenced by your marriage, manner of their death, your emotional support, age and background.  Don’t compare your grief journey to others or make assumptions about just how long your grief will last.  Take a one-day-at-a-time approach that allows you to grieve at your own pace.

Don’t be afraid to talk about the person he was and the memories that allow for both laughter and tears.  It’s important not to ignore your grief and to talk about the death of your spouse if you need to.  It’s okay to speak from both your heart and your head.

You may feel confused, disoriented, fearful, guilty and angry all at the same time.  These emotions are all normal and healthy so permit yourself to feel and don’t be surprised if surges of grief suddenly come out of nowhere.  Seek out those people who encourage you to be yourself and are willing to acknowledge your feelings."

She ends with a peroration to go out and experience life.  Well, I've done that. I have taken three trips overseas since Will died (Deutschland, Ireland, Scotland). I've seen the opera in San Francisco four times. I've been to the Willamettte Coridor, the Oregon Beaches, Denver, Cody, Missoula, Seattle, Santa Fe, and fuckin' Cleveland (which rocks).

And I got a danged poodle puppy that completely changed my daily life. 

I have grabbed life by the proverbials and I still fall apart and cry sometimes because I'm living as half of what I once was and the cauterized edges still ooze pus. 

Will, during a time of crisis, once told me, "you do not need my approval" to live my life. Because my church has been so important to me, I've allowed myself to forget that I don't need its approval either.  Because I've felt so existentially alone, I've let critics into my brain that hadn't lived there since Will and I married and his became the most important inner voice. 

Will was like my mom (his face so like hers that a postman once thought they were siblings) in that he both appreciated my ferality and was appalled by it.  But he loved me nevertheless.  The last day I saw that love was December 24, 2021.