Since I have been writing I have connected with a large community of widows and widowers. What I have noticed and learned about it is that we are a new generation of widows. We are not the picture you think of when you think of the word widow. We are no longer the little old lady or man dressed in black walking around broken and alone. We don’t hide out and depend on others for everything because we are broken in two.
The new generation has a passion for life. We have been broken but we will not remain that way. We are empowered. We have a voice and we want to be heard. We no longer want to hide away and suffer the rest of our lives. We want to find a way out of the darkness and live again. Sometimes it may take a while for this to happen and sometimes we slip in and out of the darkness, but the difference is that we want to find a way out.
Thanks to social media and the internet we can find a place where we can see that we are not alone. There are others just like us and what we are going through is normal and okay. We can lean on each other, whether it is through a simple email or reading someones blog about their experiences. When we connect with each other we take another step out of the darkness. I am thankful for this.

I don’t think the widows of the past had this. They had no way to find one another. They were alone in their suffering and others looked on them as broken and were either forgotten or pitied. I don’t want to be either. I want to be a part of the world again. I want to burn the fire that still lives inside me for all to see.
We need to continue to listen to each other and share with each other without judgment. We all have our story and our own road to healing. There is no one right way. Just what is the right for you.
Another difference is that it seems to be us widows are getting younger and younger. There is a large group of us out there that are under the age of 50 and have lost our spouse. We still have a lot of life left to live. It isn’t the life we had planned on, but there is still life out there. This new generation of widows now have to grieve for their loss, find their new life and start to live again. It isn’t the same group of widows who were married for 50 years and will spend the rest of their lives alone. Not they all do either. Not that they don’t feel the same pain. It’s just different.
I have found that being a young widow has its challenges.
- the challenge of having to continue to raise young children.
- figuring out where we fit in this world of couples as a young single person.
- trying to navigate the financial world on your own and plan for the unknown future
- finding people to connect with that understand
- navigating family situations both nuclear and in-laws
- not having a partner to lean on
- and so much more…
I never imagined I would be a 40-year-old widow. I never thought it was even in the realm of possibility. But here I am and here you are. We are widowed. We are young. We have a life left to live. I have to believe we are still here for a reason and there is still more for us to do.
So to this new generation of widows I say we stand tall and stand together. We are strong in who we are and what we want in life. We can make decisions for ourselves based on what we want and what we need. We can have the life we deserve without others judgment or disapproval. We do not have to suffer in silence or dress all in black…though I do enjoy wearing black. We can go out with friends. We can laugh out loud. We can have a good time. And in time we can find happiness again…
That is not who I am…ever. I will give myself sometime to feel what I am feeling. Think through my craziness. Cry a gallon of tears. But there is a point where I say enough is enough. Get off your ass Denise and get going. Today is that day. I am giving myself this past week for what it was worth and I am ready to start again…again. As long as I keep getting up and trying to move forward I think I am heading the right direction. As for the voice of Fear screaming in my head, I am ready to shut her down. If I fail at what I am going to try to do, then I fail. It doesn’t make me a loser. It simply makes me someone who wants to live. Living is about learning and loving. There is nothing more I want to do with my time here then to learn and love. So bring it on. I’ve survived worse and I am ready
Finding myself again at the age of 42 is way more difficult than it was in my teenage years. And I thought that was pretty tough. I am so lost in who I am and it is incredibly confusing to me because of course I know who I am, right? You’d think so. Losing Pat didn’t just take away my role of being a wife. I didn’t just lose my best friend, and partner in life. I lost me. Some times I don’t even recognize my own reflection anymore. I have changed so quickly and so dramatically that I haven’t been able to keep up with it all. I’ve never felt so lonely as I do these days and that can happen even when I am sitting with a group of people. It’s not the loneliness of not having anyone around, obviously, but a loneliness in the soul. It’s like walking around aimlessly without any purpose or reason for doing so. My children keep me busy, they are my focus and my life. But they have lives too. When they go, what do I have? I have me. But I don’t know who that is anymore. I don’t know what to do or where to go. I think it’s the fear that I have now…the hesitation towards life that leaves me in the paralyzing confusion. I have a bit of fear of losing now….losing anything. Losing respect, losing focus, losing hope, literally anything. I don’t want to lose so I don’t take the risk. Can’t lose if you don’t play.
for the moment and finding my path correlate? How can you live in the moment and still seek a path and follow a plan? Since I can’t think this one through, please bear with me as I try to write my way through. Sometimes this works better for me.
to describe to someone who hasn’t walked this path in life, but for those of you who are on this similar path, I think you know exactly what I am speaking of. Most of the time it is a simple haze I am walking around in. My peripheral vision is blurred and I can simply focus on what is in front of me. I can take care of the one thing I am focused on at a time and then move forward to the next. This leads to forgetfulness. Not the usual forgetfulness you think of as you age or when you have too much on your plate. It’s a repetitive, annoying, drive yourself crazy forgetfulness. If it’s in your head, it’s there for just a moment and then it’s gone…sometimes for good. I recently remembered that I forgot the birthdays of two family members months ago. I know when their birthdays are; I am sure I thought I need to send them a gift, but then it was gone. It didn’t resurface until almost 5 months later. This is small in the world of fog. I never…and I mean never know where my keys or my phone are. I can’t get out of my house. Without my trusted babysitter, I am not sure I would have made it to work all year. She would check me off with all my belongings. Some days I would return home two or three times to pick up things I forgot. I can’t remember the countless times I arrived at work without my computer. And paying bills is a constant struggle for me. I tend to either completely forget to pay a bill or like what I’ve been doing lately, paying the same bill two or three times. These are just a couple of examples of how crazy I have felt in the past year or so.
art to heart with Pat, that’s where I go. Last year I would go every day. I couldn’t handle not being with him. We had never spent more than three days apart from one another until he had gotten sick and I wasn’t going to let that happen. As time went by I started going less and less. I could feel him with me everywhere I went and so I don’t need to go to that place in order to be with him.
mething is going to trigger one of them. This year, my boys showed me that they are just like their father…true warriors. They are strong, and proud and want to live. Yes they are sad. Yes they miss their daddy desperately. But this isn’t the end of their happiness. They are living forward as well.
life. I am growing into that new life. I am forging new paths and discovering new things and laying out a plan of what I want out of life now.
yesterday was my birthday. My last first since Pat died. It wasn’t so bad. I laughed…a lot. It was a good day. I was able to see it as it was, my birthday. Not the same as my birthday use to be with Pat, but I have to say it was a happy birthday. What I realized on this day is that it was the last first. I have survived 365 days of firsts without my husband. I lived 52 weeks without him. A year ago, I didn’t think I was going to make it 1 week. I didn’t want to. I couldn’t imagine breathing without him, let alone laughing as I did yesterday. They say time heals all things…I don’t agree with that, but it helps. Now, today is a different story for me. Today is the beginning of my second year without him and to most people, the day he died. I know different. I was there. He died at 11:53 pm April 5. But today is the day everyone knew he was gone; that his beautiful soul had left this earth. Today is harder for me than yesterday.