There does exist a generalized ranking for the severity of bereavement: the most traumatic death to endure being the death of a child, then the death of a partner, then a parent, then a sibling. Really, though, the depth of grief is only partly about the blood bond or title of the relationship. The depth of grief is more about what the person meant to you. For example, maybe you’re grieving the death of a lifelong friend (no blood tie there) or having mixed feelings about the death of a husband, from whom you’re separated and were on your way to divorce (your partner but the grieving is muddled with many emotions).
These articles are about grief surrounding death but we also grieve so many other losses: loss of a relationship, a job, a dream, our youth, our money! Some grieving can occur before death, as in the last years with my second husband. With a long illness, you can lose the person, your lifestyle, and the relationship as you knew it in tiny steps and part of you is grieving as you go. It’s hedging your bet. You might be doing 60% grieving and partially preparing for the inevitable death and the other 40% hoping and denying, wanting death never to happen. In the case of a dementia, the person you knew and loved can be mostly gone before death occurs. An expected death doesn’t mean that you can’t be hard hit with shock. When Alan died, I was extremely shocked that he was actually gone. The heart is such a wishful thinker.
We’re all individuals and weather tough situations in our own way. Both times, I kept to myself in the first year, then gradually got out a bit more. I did have kids the first time but only took them to school and other activities. I did my best to speak to them about their Dad’s death in an age-appropriate way. I did no adult socializing; I was sad, broken, and exhausted and I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Even with friends, I turned down invitations and let phone calls go to message. I would try to call family members and close friends back when I was in a somewhat upbeat mood, which was seldom. This time, I was able to text to let people know I was managing all right, without needing to talk to them. It’s one of the benefits of cell phones! Both times, I cried very little, which is a shame, since crying has various health benefits. Crying reduces the stress hormone cortisol, soothes, and releases endorphins. I don’t ever cry much, that’s just my personality. Crying or not crying is no indicator of how much you loved your partner. Following Alan’s death (2019), I did make some trips to visit my kids in the lower mainland but it was mainly so that they wouldn’t worry about me being a recluse, which I was. Last Christmas, the first since Alan passed away, my daughter asked me to her home in the Vancouver area and I nearly didn’t go; I just couldn’t face the holidays. She said I couldn’t stay in the house alone at Christmas and threatened to disrupt her plans and come here if I wouldn’t make the trip. I was successfully coerced and off I went. The distraction of other people and holiday atmosphere didn’t help much but I did get through that Christmas. Now, at a year 8 months past Alan’s death, I still spend a good deal of my time alone and socialize sparingly and briefly. This is what I’ve done; it’s neither right nor wrong.
You may do something different in the first few months. Perhaps you’ll find comfort and some relief from loneliness in socializing with others or in pursuing hobbies. You may throw yourself into your job. Maybe you’ll travel a little, although COVID has certainly limited that option. Be cautious if a new relationship comes along quickly. A newly bereaved person is so lonely and vulnerable.
The world doesn’t stop because you’ve lost a partner and your world has disintegrated. You have to grieve and still manage to cope with whatever new is happening. You might have your job awaiting your return, family obligations, health issues, finances to sort out, and so on. Grief is exhausting and it will take months before you can manage more than the bare minimum. Try to rest and be kind to yourself as much as you’re able and, if you can force yourself, do some positive things. In one of my next articles, I’ll talk about what helpful things a bereaved person might try but I will mention exercise here, as one of the best ways to improve your day. Just get through as well as you can; the goal is survival. Even though your partner is gone, you still have people who care about you and a future waiting for you. I’ve been working with a kind and supportive therapist for over a year now and that’s been a real plus. I think I’ve worn out her ears with talking! Getting too friendly with entertaining drinks or substances doesn’t help in the long run; it’s another problem to sort out later.
Sometimes people around you will decide that, after a few months, you’ve been morose long enough and it’s time to move along. Those who’d like you to rush ahead are generally those who haven’t experienced a close death. A few months can feel like a day if your partner has passed away. Then there are others of your acquaintance who may see you out laughing with a friend and make the judgment that you’re taking your bereavement too lightly. They aren’t there for the dark times when you won’t leave the house at all. People can be amazing or thoughtless or unkind, best to be prepared for that.
The point here is, be gentle with yourself and try not to make too many large decisions until you have some equilibrium back. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other and have faith that in time your life will feel better.
Twice A Widow 