Alone on Valentine's Day

Elaine Williams
copyright 2009
According to the U.S Census Bureau, there are approximately 700,000 new widows every year. The emotional and monetary problems that affect those experiencing widowhood are staggering. This is no small problem, as 32% of women aged 55 and older live alone, according to the 2000 U.S. Census.

Being alone during special days like Valentine’s Day can be incredibly painful for those who have lost a loved one. It's often considered a special day for couples, and if you’re recently bereaved, it can be an especially difficult time to get through. One way to lessen any negative impact of this day is to plan ahead – perhaps go out to dinner with friends or a movie. Create something special for yourself.

The stress of dealing with the death of a spouse makes it quite difficult to function at times. In addition to the loss of income, the widow or widower may also face debt issues and the pressure of becoming a single parent. When you lose someone you love, it is a permanent wound on the heart. Loss of any kind is never easy, but you can begin to enjoy life once more, even if it’s only one evening at a time. Be kind to yourself.

More Stages of Grief - Memorial Hospital Hospice

This site offers some more good information on the stages of grief. Following the five stages they also list "Grief and Stress" and "Recovering from Grief."

http://www.memorialhospital.org/Library/general/stress-THE-3.html>

Watching Death Take Shape

In the last seven years I have personally watched three people I deeply care about, move toward death, and die. My grandmother, my mother-in-law and my husband. Each faced it in their own individual way, but in the end it was peaceful and you could see them just letting go. I guess ultimately that's what we all do, is just let go

Stepping Across the Threshold

Sometimes when your loved one is near death's door, you still hope for a reprieve. It's not to be, they step through that door anyway, irregardless of who's left behind.

Dying with Dignity

I read a post today about Washington state trying to pass a law so the terminally ill can die with dignity. I know if something like this had been available in New York State, my husband would have taken advantage of this means of dying with dignity. The State of Oregon already has this type of help available for terminally ill patients, as do a few European countries. Perhaps this is something no one thinks about until it strikes home, I know I never gave it a thought, I had no occasion to until my husband became ill and suffered so much. There are of course people on both sides of the argument, but again, it is a deeply personal decision, and not one that should be made by a court or strangers at the end of life. You can decide for yourself. http://www.yeson1000.org

An Individual Grief Experience

At first the loss was a relief, my husband had been sick with esophagus cancer for almost 12 months, was in tremendous pain and had wasted away to nothing. I never knew for sure how much weight he lost, but I would estimate close to one hundred and ten pounds.

When he died, he took that last breath, I knew it was best for him, as terrible as his life and lack of quality of life had become. At about six months it really began to hit me, and my life became a deep, gaping hole of lonely, empty despair. I was afraid to talk about it, to voice my fear, my total numbness. I had three children I needed to keep on an even keel. At times I would cry, or stare blankly, and I thought perhaps this is going crazy, or at least I was losing whatever grip I had on life. This was the beginning of my grief experience.

Now, four years later I can see the tremendous growth I've gone through, allowed myself to move through, and I feel I have come out on the other side, a better, more compassionate person. But I still remember the time in between, the time of incredible loneliness, feeling wounded and hurt to be left alone. In truth, I don't want to forget those years in between. It made me who I am today.

Giving Kids the Facts

I came upon an interesting post today at http://theviewfromhere.wordpress.com

It brought up the subject of funerals, death and dying....and being honest with kids. My thoughts on the matter are it's thought provoking -- trying to give kids information without giving them too much information to scare them, but be honest. I never wanted my kids to feel they’re prohibited from asking questions they need to be answered.

We all handle/filter the death process differently, but I tend to agree that kids need the truth, as hard as it is sometimes. At my mother-in-law’s funeral, my then 9 year old wanted to play one last song for his grandmother, and he did this while 3 tears dropped onto his fiddle at the gravesite. When his dad passed away a year later and we scattered his ashes, my son played another song, but up in our field behind our house. It was his way to say a final goodbye, but we all know know that is only the beginning of the grief process.

Forgiving Death

Forgiveness is part of the process. I went through a time I was angry that my husband died....it felt like he left everything in my lap, what was left of our life had changed. I had three boys without a father, my youngest being 11. I just felt like everything had been dumped on me. When I faced up to these feelings and got over feeling guilty about them, I realized this was just part of the grief process I had to get through. I forgave myself, understood it was okay, and I didn't dwell on it but moved ahead with my life.

The Grieving Process

I just read another wonderful article at www.widowquest.com regarding about reducing stress at times of grieving. Some of us take longer than others to figure out the grief process. As we know, it's an individual journey, fraught with uncertainty and unknown paths and opportunities. We can fall down and keep feeling sorry for ourselves, or pick ourselves up and try to drag ourselves forward. It's never easy, no matter how you travel or finally get there...there is no end to it, we just learn to adjust, to live, to love again. I've found for myself going deeply into the despair and pain, feeling it, looking at it, letting it have its way for a short time, then letting it go, does me the best good. Again, it's all individual.

Life Support, Who is in Charge?

As a widow of four years it's difficult to lose anyone, but to have someone else tell you when life support should be discontinued -- it's not up to a court or a judge. When you love someone you just want the minutes to last, however long that is. It's such a touch decision to make and have to deal with. As one article recently stated, "are you prolonging life or prolonging death?"

What to Do and Say When Someone Dies

Many times people just don't have a clue as to how to react or what to say to the family when someone they know passes away. First and foremost, tell them you're sorry for their loss. Second, it means a lot when someone drops you a note about what the deceased person meant to them. Third, don't think that after a short time they've moved on or gotten over their loss. It takes time and healing to get through our individual journey. Let the family know you're still thinking of them. Sometimes people think mourning is a year -- and things should be pretty normal. Not so.

In many, many cases, a year is nothing on the radar blip of grief and in this brief timeframe a lot of us are just getting started. We've figured out our loved one isn't coming back, hopefully we've settled into some semblance of our life as it is now, and we're just discovering what it really means to be alone. Trust me, a year in the life of the grieving, is nothing.

What is Thanatology?

Thanatology is the study of death and dying as in psychiatry. Especially the ways to lessen the suffering and address the needs of the terminally ill and their survivors.

Sometimes You Need to Cry

Elaine Williams copyright 2008

I recall a period in time, at about 18 months after my husband passed away, that I felt pretty good about myself. I had handled what life had thrown me and come out battered, but mostly okay on the other side. After caretaking my husband for almost a year, I was battling some minor health problems of my own, related mostly to stress, but most days I was certain my life was on track. Steady and focused, my three boys were also adjusting and it seemed we all had a grip on reality.

On this day, I was on my way to an appointment with my holistic doctor when the radio began playing a song I had never heard before. The singer’s words stirred something inside me. The song spoke of loving someone through the years, and even with that person gone, the threads of memory remained.

The words reverberated through me, and I experienced almost a kind of shock as their meaning sank in. Out of nowhere, I began to cry so hard I had to pull off the road. I had no control over the rush of anguished emotion. All my hard won calm fled, chopped off at the knees as I hugged the steering wheel of my car.

I cried as if a great well had opened inside and pulled my guts out. When I finally began to calm and the tears subsided, I had to wonder where this emotional outburst had come from. How could a song open a wound of such profound loss?

I arrived at my doctor’s office, and as usual with holistic doctors, they not only want to know about you physically, but they dig deeper into the emotional aspects of your life. I hesitated only briefly before telling him what had occurred on the way to his office. I felt embarrassed by my earlier semi-breakdown. I tried to explain that I’d been feeling good, and then to suddenly have this upheaval had thrown me for a loop.

He explained it was to be expected there would be days where emotion could still catch me by surprise. With the loss still relatively fresh in my life, how could I expect to be 100%? I admitted to him that I’d been feeling excruciatingly lonely, but I thought I was handling it. Some days my idea of “handling” it meant ignoring or burying my feelings. Always a very private person, I hadn’t shared much of my thoughts with anyone. When friends asked how I was doing, I would usually say I was okay. Inside, I kept thinking, who wants to hear that I just want to get through another day?

I felt much better after speaking with him. Not only was he a sympathetic ear, it felt good to open up and share my worries about being alone, my concern for the kids’ welfare and fears that I wasn’t handling my finances to my best advantage.

We talked extensively about the triggers that stirred my own private misery. Something as straightforward as a song, or as complex as past memories, seemed to have the power to entrench me in great emotion. He made me realize there would be times I merely needed to cry as part of grief’s healing process. There was nothing complicated about it.

Each time we are brave enough to reach down and allow our true emotions out, it brings a little more healing into our lives. As time passes, and we remain true to ourselves, a new sense of empowerment emerges.