Letter to My Younger, Newly Widowed Self

Dear Sara,

Life is a blur. It doesn’t feel real. I know you don’t care about eating or even getting out of bed. It’s hard for anyone to imagine what you are going through, yet their lives go on. It goes on until they see your face. Then, it becomes all too real how quickly life can change. You are a constant reminder of everyone’s worst fear.

To make themselves feel a little better, to ease their discomfort, they offer you encouraging words. “It’ll get better. I promise,” they say. “Time heals all wounds,” they reassure. “Everything happens for a reason,” they add. You listen nicely and move on. Afterall, you do realize they mean well. And they do. To be honest, these comments are not about you. It’s about easing their own discomfort. It’s about wiping this particular nightmare from their sleep. It isn’t that they don’t know what it’s like or they can’t see the pain. They might know how it feels. Believe me, they can see the pain.

They know nothing can make you feel better. Nothing can ease that pain. There are no words to fix what you are going through. None. If they could do something to fix it, they probably would. So, put away the negative thoughts. Quit the banter going through your head. Cut them a break. Besides, they might just be right, or at least on the right track.

You can’t see it now, there is too much pain. You can’t even manage to get through a whole thought. Your world is spinning. Oh, believe me, I remember.

You are doing the right things. The time spent with the kids does matter. It’s okay to stay on the couch. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay not to return phone calls. And it’s even okay to give up on ever being happy. At some point, you will get out of bed, shower, and leave the house–all in one day, even. Eventually, you will smile. When you think of him, you might even chuckle. And, one day, you will miss companionship so badly that you will consider meeting someone new.

If I could pass on one thing to my younger, newly widowed self, it would be this: You will live again–and happily.

I don’t want to seem apathetic or idealistic. You work hard. You put in long hours. You worry and cry. There are good days and bad. It does get better. Eventually, time does help you put things into perspective. And, everything is going to be okay.

As I sit here, happy, looking back, I can tell you that much of what those do-gooders said was true.

Please, don’t be afraid. That is the one thing you don’t have to be. Be kind to yourself. Take time for yourself once in awhile; wrap yourself around the kids the rest of the time.

It’s a journey you didn’t ask for, but it’s one worth taking. Just hold on.

Love,

Your older, wiser, happy self.

About Sara

My name is Sara and I am a woman with a history and a future. I am a mother of 5 and a wife to an amazing man. Being a teen mother and a widow in my mid-twenties has given me plenty of storms to weather. Writing has always been my solace, it's also a passion and a talent. Through my writing I hope to help others weather their storms and create my own path to my dreams.
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6 Responses to Letter to My Younger, Newly Widowed Self

  1. ljlenehan says:

    Really nice and honest… Thank you for sharing Sara!

    Like

  2. I’m not sure why, but I find this easier to hear, coming from you, someone who has been through it. I would resent it coming from others, who haven’t experienced loss. I know that’s not a good attitude…it’s probably stems more from the fact that that I don’t believe them, as they aren’t speaking from experience. But I thank you for this post. It is genuinely kind, and inspirational. By saying these things to your younger, newly widowed self, you are saying them to me.

    Like

    • Sara says:

      I remember having rather nasty thoughts about people who would say those types of things to me. I tried not to, but boy it was so hard. Good attitude or not, at least you are honest about it. I know I was definitely resentful to watch them with their WHOLE families while I was missing part of mine. And, if I could go back, with what I know now, I would be a little more lenient.

      I’m glad that all made sense to you. I am glad that what I went through can give you some insight. It’s truly difficult to sort through all of that ‘stuff’ in your head. Between the replays and to do list, it’s hard to get in a solid, complete thought–or at least it was for me. I read your blog and see much of myself in there. It’s so funny how paths are so different, yet the same.

      Hang in there. Keep reading. Ask me anything. We’ll talk soon.

      Like

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