Ch.247 Ending My “Widower” Identity
April 2024
“What brings you here?” asked Fran, the lady sitting beside me at a script reading performance put on by a 6 woman play writing group for the Chippewa Valley Learning in Retirement organization. “Well, I’m a widower…” I began, as if that fact alone would explain how I happened to be one of three men sitting here among 250 women. “Oh, yes,” her knowing nod seemed to imply, “You’re lonely and desperate and sad and needy, poor fellow.” She might have added, as I’ve often heard, how it’s much harder for men than women to lose their partner, apparently because men don’t know how to cook or make friends very well.
Yes, at times I’ve been lonely and desperate and sad and needy during my almost two years of being a widower. But I can cook (I did all the meals while Pat was in early-stage Lewy Body at home) and I have many friends. Most importantly, all those negative feelings only occur occasionally now, 21 months after Pat’s death. More often I feel connected (with family and friends), comfortable, happy, and increasingly self-sufficient.
I didn’t plan it this way, but I can look back and see how my grief is becoming less; grief no longer fills every chasm of my being. I understand from fellow grievers that I’ll never completely fill the void caused by Pat’s death. Nor would I want to. But I have a life to live, a complex life not defined solely by loss.
If grief is a feeling, then being a widower is a role and ultimately an identity. I could stay in that role and identity forever. Some people do – that’s part of what is called complex or complicated grief. But lately I’ve grown increasingly tired of playing the role of widower. Even a little bored. I think I’m getting ready to leave it behind.
Practically speaking, what would that mean? First, quitting my grief group no later than July 1, the second anniversary of Pat’s death. Second, either ending this blog or perhaps starting a new page maybe called “Ron’s New Life.” My current title, “Living Alone after Lewy Body,” is not intrinsically about grief, but that’s what almost all of the last hundred chapters have been about. I would still volunteer at Azura, though, since going there brings me joy, with memories of Pat when she was living, before I became a widower.
Quitting the grief group and changing my blog would alter my role. But changing my identity implies something deeper. I want to stop focusing upon my losses and instead look at my gains – time for myself, caring for others, self-care, love for my animals, family, and friends. Being loved by many, liked by more, hated by no one (I think). Gratitude not for all I still have (implying loss) but for all I do have.