I remember the day as if it was yesterday. On the 30th of August 2019, I left the palliative care unit of Redcliffe Hospital to go home and settle for as good a night a sleep as one can in these situations.
I was coming back the next day in preparation to basically move into the unit. I’d been told to bring everything I needed, even the dog. I was exhausted and needed to switch off from the world. My husband saw that and quite literally, dismissed me from his bedside.
When I got home, I laid on the bed and remembered nothing until my phone woke me at 0430am. I must have been in a deep sleep as it took a couple of calls until the sound got through to me. I saw the number and simply said, “when?” The hospital told me that he had died peacefully and asked me if I wanted to see him. I declined. Some may feel that is a harsh decision but let me explain.
The night before, I had been laying on his bed with him, and we had been laughing about how his voice sounded like a gruff old smoker (because he had been intubated for so long.) We were laughing so much we could barely catch a breath! In between the laughs, there had been a few tears as Mark constantly reassured me that I would be fine after he’d gone, that everything was in place to ensure I was taken care of. He told me a few things that night too. He wanted me to sell the house, after all, the house isn’t the memories we had. He also made me promise to allow myself to be loved again. We said everything we wanted to say.
But now he was gone. The Madhatters had become Hattersley – party of one and I now had to start ringing people to inform them. It is times like this as I reflect on that day, that I am so glad that Mick (my brother-in-law) stepped up to let everyone know in the UK. I was not looking forward to telling my in laws that their son had passed away. How do you break that news?
But here I am, almost 6 years on from that fateful day. The plan of this piece is to answer questions, and to suggest ways that people can help a widowed friend. So, here goes:
Will my friends stay with me?
My number one piece of advice to be aware of is this. Grief changes your address book. Your true friends will remain but be prepared. Those you think would have remained by your side may disappear. You may be surprised by others who stay. I learned quickly who the people were that I could rely on. Someone I had considered to be like a sister, disappeared from my life. People my husband had worked with and that I knew, I never heard from again. It is sad but you have to let them go. It’s almost like grieving the dead and the living.
Does this life get easier?
I was constantly told that after the the ‘firsts,’ it all gets easier. The life of a widow does not get easier. Ever! You just learn to live with it. I thought it would be easier after the 2nd year – nope. It is only now, after the 5th year, that it is starting to feel a sense of normality again.
Grief is overwhelming. – help!
It never goes away. Don’t expect it too. It’ll creep up every now and then. It might be a song, a smell, somewhere you are, a multitude of things. You haven’t just lost a partner. You’ve lost the life that was ahead of you with your partner. You’ve lost your date night, your movie friend, your bbq king, your best friend, the cook in your house maybe. The list is endless.
I dont know what to do with our possessions.
Don’t make hasty decisions. Part of me just wanted the old life gone as it was a reminder of everything I had lost, but when you sit back and think of it, those reminders are exactly what you need. I made decisions in the spur of the moment, some of which I wish I could change.
How do I ask for help?
There is no magic solution to this one. If you are incredibly lucky, your friends will understand what you need without you even having to ask. If not, the only way to get help is to ask. If you don’t ask, how will they know.
♥️
If you have any other questions, please send me a message through the website and I’ll answer them from my own experiences.
To friends of a widow/widower:
Some advice speaking from both sides of the coin. I’m a widow and I’ve watched friends and relatives walk the same path as me.
- When you are with a widow friend, you are going to be uncomfortable. That’s just the way it is. You have to accept that and live with that.
- Don’t wait for your widowed friend to ask for help. They won’t. Widow-brain is a known condition. Your friend needs you, but she won’t know it. She will need your help but won’t know how to ask you.
- Offer to go with your widowed friend to arrange the funeral and get any paperwork in order. These are the times that another person’s support can be invaluable.
- Don’t tell a widow to call you when they need you. They won’t. Firstly, they don’t want to be a bother and secondly, the grief is so overwhelming that they really don’t know what they want.
- Stay away from the platitudes. While a widow knows you mean well, hearing comments such as “he wouldn’t want this,” “he’s in a better place,” “the grief will go,” or “you have to move on,” are no help whatsoever and can be distressing to hear.
- Never ring a widow and say, “Can I…” Just come over and make a drink for him/her. They may not drink it but the fact that you’re there, even if they don’t talk, means more than they’ll be able to tell you.
- Come over to see the widow with groceries – cook meals for your widowed friend. Practical gifts help, as a widow can be overwhelmed with flowers.
- Make a care package for your widowed friend. Photos of their loved ones. Restaurant take-out menus. Vouchers for take out so they don’t have to pay. A blanket. Candles. Babysitting voucher offers. Cinema vouchers. Flowers. A paid for streaming service for the tv. Tissues. Wine. Their loved one’s favourite things.
Be the friend that your widowed friend doesn’t realise she needs.
