How to be a widow: A guide from a wife who doesn’t know either
Since my husband, Bill, died of brain cancer in June, I’ve found myself unclear about what it means to grieve. If I’m driving our kids to school and thinking about Bill, does that count as grieving? Is watching TV to distract myself somehow an expression of grief?
When I see his eyes at night and it’s unbearable, I think, “This is grief; I am grieving.”
Widowed
I am not rending my garments or wailing, but nonetheless I am a widow.
This new status felt strange at first, but then I decided it gave me license to disregard social norms and act how I wanted.
At a Girl Scouts meeting with a lot of parents I do not know, I make no effort to socialize. I just stand in a corner, not doing or saying anything. I don’t even bother to look at my phone.
I feel somehow superior to all the non-widows. I understand this might seem wrong. I’m not sure when my widow’s license expires.
Read the Full Article on the Washington Post
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