There is hope. It may not seem like there is, but there is.
My 25-year-old daughter just got engaged to her fabulous long-term girlfriend. She graduated college and has a great career in fashion. She is happy.
My 23-year-old daughter graduated college, is pursuing a graduate degree in psychology, and has a wonderful boyfriend. She is also happy.
My husband died 12 years ago and I had no idea how to move forward
Twelve years ago I never thought any of this could be possible. My husband died suddenly when our daughters were only 10 and 12 years old. I didn’t know what to do. I walked around in a fog and did not believe that the three of us would get through it. But we did.
Looking back on the last twelve years is like watching another person’s life. It was something that no one would imagine happening and, all these years later, I still cannot believe it did. That younger me had a lot to deal with. While some things were relatively manageable, most were extremely difficult. But looking at my daughters today, I know that it was worth it.
To all the widowed moms just beginning their journey, I see you. Please know that there is light at the end of that very dark tunnel.
I see the widowed moms and there is light at the end of this tunnel
I see you driving carpools with one child and dragging their sibling along because they are still too young to stay alone.
I see you getting a phone call at work that your child is having a rough day at school. I see you trying to figure out alone how to deal with your teen struggling in school.
I see you holding your kids at night when they are missing their dad.
I see you juggling finances because there is not as much money coming in.
I see you trying to get your kids out the door for school when they are not feeling up to it.
I see you touring colleges alone with your high school junior and senior.
I see you moving your son or daughter into their dorm room without a partner.
I see you trying to date but not really knowing if you are ready or not.
I see you dating but wondering if your children will accept it.
I see you attending parties and events on your own when all your friends are with a partner.
I see your children struggling with their grief and loss at different stages of their lives.
I see you holding back the tears when the father/daughter dance is happening at weddings or bar/bat mitzvahs.
I see the empty chair at your dinner table.
I see you wistfully watching a dad with his children in a restaurant or at a park or anywhere.
I see you at graduations knowing he should be there for the happy moments.
I see you and your kids struggling on Father’s Day.
I see you taking your kids to therapy and then realizing you also need it.
I see you feeling guilty about moving forward with your life.
I see you realizing you will have to walk your child down the aisle by yourself.
I see you never having a moment to yourself. Never.
I see the guilt when you feel only relief as the kids go off to college.
I see you becoming an empty nester and thinking “Now what?”
I see you looking for signs that your husband is still with you.
I will also see you years down the road as things finally become a little easier.
Believe me, this is not the life that anyone wants. But you will learn to find a different kind of happiness and more importantly, find a strength you never knew you had.
Until then, I see you.
More Great Reading:
At First I Didn’t Cry, But My Empty Nest Gave Me Space To Grieve
