"I'll Never Marry Again!" (Did I say NEVER?)

So it was just over a year that I became a widow. I was doing ok. I had my good days and my not so good days. But over all, life was tolerable. I was getting use to being a single mom and accepting the fact that this was my new and permanent life.

"Are you dating anyone?" A family member innocently asked me. I CAN'T BELIEVE HE ASKED ME THAT! "No, and I don't plan to," I said. "Nobody will ever take Nelson's place, and I'll never marry again." He looked at me doubtfully.

I didn't understand why people would ask me that question. Couldn't they understand if you love someone with all your heart you won't desire anyone else. I already felt the Lord would always take care of my family. I clung to the Scripture verse that stated it was better to stay unmarried:

1 Corinthians 7: 8-9 "Now to the unmarried and the widows I say; It is good for them to stay unmarried, as I am, But if they cannot control themselves, they should marry, for it is better to marry than to burn with passion."

If I could continue to have self-control, this is what the Lord would prefer. I had to understand that everyone had their own opinion. It didn't make sense to argue. I knew in my heart that I would remain single to probably the day I died.

Well, I did remain single for many years until seven years into my widowhood I met someone that I couldn't live without. As much as I had enjoyed my single life and independence, there still wasn't anything that beats having someone to love and to be loved in return.

I've been remarried now for three wonderful years. One lesson I've learned is to treasure every relationship every day because we are not guaranteed tomorrow. Nothing is permanent, it's just temporarily beautiful!

A Child's Time to Grieve

As an adult, in a dangerous situation, we put the oxygen mask on ourself first, and then we give it to our child. Well, widowhood was like a disaster that hit my life. In the first year of grief, I needed everyone else's help before I could help my children. My daughters, 6 and 7 at the time, not only didn't have a father that first year, but their mother was absent as well.

I felt depleted. I was emotionally unavailable to them and wrapped up in my own grief. The little sense I did have, I made sure they met with their school counselor. I had no idea how they were processing their grief and if they were even doing ok.

We also had some family conferences with the guidance counselor. My daughters were able to talk about their feelings. The counselor reassured me that they had a healthy understanding of what happened. This relieved me since I had been consumed with my own thoughts. Even though we lived under the same roof I had no idea how my children were coping.

I kept going that first year mainly on faith. I didn't feel death was final when I had hope in eternal life. I know my girls heard me say that alot. I also think God was carrying them that first year. I imagined they were cradled in His arms as a protecting Father until I was well enough to meet their physical and emotional needs. I think the spiritual needs were covered.

Once the first year of widowhood was behind me, I felt stronger. I thought more about my children's needs. My oldest daughter attended a weekend hospice camp, for children who had lost a loved one. The day I picked her up they had closing ceremonies. Each child shared an experience from the weekend. I didn't know whether to feel happy or sad for them. It was tragic these children suffered a loss but fortunate that they found joy again.

The following year, both my girls attended the hospice camp and also went to a children's eight week hospice grief support group. A counselor told me it can take children up to four and a half years to work through grief. So after the first year of it being ALL ABOUT ME, for several years after it was then ALL ABOUT THEM. There were times I was ready to move on, to new goals and relationships, but I backed up and sacrificed moving forward until my children caught up.

A Year Gone By

I don't know why, but I felt like it was a big accomplishment to make it through the first year of widowhood. I wanted to scream, "I made it!" (Whatever that meant.) It was a milestone. It was one full year of living through every holiday, birthday, anniversary, and season without my loved one. It had to be the worst year ever. And it was finally over.

With a sigh of relief, the time seemed right to clean out the rest of Nelson's possessions. Whatever I couldn't keep, I gave to family or friends. This was done of course on my good days. I moved in life as though in waves. Sometimes I'd forge ahead a little happier with energy, and then just as quickly, get drawn back into sadness and knocked down in despair.

During this time, I recognized my friends' compassion, who knew our situation, and how much of a difference this made on our family. A few months ago, what seemed like a good idea to move out of state, I realized it had been a terrible idea. "Thank you, God, that I listened to my friends who told me not to do anything for a year." Now, I couldn't imagine life without our friends' love and support.

I began accepting more social invitations. I noticed that the more outgoing I became, the more sociable people were towards me. As my self-confidence grew, it became easier to fight my negative feelings. And those depressed feelings were sometimes right around the corner. At times I had control over my emotions and at other times I'd lose control and feel like he just died the other day.

One of the hardest situations I still had to face, was attending my children's school functions. I proudly watched as they participated in the end of the year talent show to show off their dance and gymnastic abilities. I was on cloud nine watching them but once it ended my mood sank as I watched the other dads applaud. Knowing that my daughters will never experience their father's approval again, how sad is that?!!

So I began giving myself the "Blessing Lecture" every time I felt like I was going down. God blessed us with a certain amount of years with Nelson. When Nelson was on this earth, he filled us with more love than some people hardly find in a life time. We had wonderful memories of him as a husband and father. This helped me to pick myself up, brush off my tears, and saddle back into living life. Living life with amazing daughters, a wonderful family, and irreplaceable friends!

A Widow's Commemoration

I would imagine that most widows dread the anniversary day of their husbands death. Especially the first year. Kind of like a holiday or birthday, it's a BIG one. As the day approached for me, I contemplated what to do. It felt too big of a day NOT to talk about it. But who would really bring the subject up?  I realized that I would have to make the effort to talk or suffer alone in silence.

"I'll invite our friends to go out on the thirteenth, in memory of Nelson. Why ignore the day? It would just make the pain worse. This way, we can be together to comfort each other." For our night out, my friends and I went to a neighborhood pizzeria. It was four couples and myself, which accentuated Nelson's absence all the more. Our evening consisted of sharing our memories of Nelson.

The evening seemed healing for not only me but my friends, too. Not one of us had wanted Nelson to die. He was a wonderful person. We all had funny memorable stories to share. We laughed together and I felt a sense of joy to have these wonderful friends in my life. I bought a round of drinks and toasted to everyone's glass, "I couldn't have done it without each and every one of you this past year."

I felt Nelson was close by. I wondered if our feelings and soul could connect to the spiritual world. Or did I just want him here so badly? I knew I wouldn't know that answer until I died. So for now, I decided to enjoy the relationships of family and friends that were presently in my life. And this special night would become a new memory. A memory of how much my friends loved me.

"Cindy, these are for you." Sal handed me a bouquet of roses. "Nelson would have bought them for you." Tears filled my eyes. "All of you are so sweet. I couldn't have made it through this day without your company." And to this day, many years later, I have memories of that evening. Of the first anniversary of my former husband's passing. Memories that are so sweet. Good memories.

There are other ways to commemorate. Coming from another widow's blog, Heatache to Healing, read Joanne's post, "As Time Goes By - Celebrate and Remember". She begins; Do you remember the song “As Time Goes By?” it was made famous in the movie “Casablanca” and hundreds of artists have performed it over the years. Time going by is a fact of life and yet when you are grieving the loss of a loved one time can feel as if it stopped.

So if you are contemplating what to do on that memorable day, I hope you don't suffer in silence. Call a friend and make a plan. Share stories of your loved one. Laugh, cry, and reminisce. You may find that you'll be making new memories, too. And it may help to soften the pain just a little more. "Cheers, to you and your support system that keep you going!"

When PTSD Strikes in Grief

As if going through the emotional stages of grief aren't enough...shock, denial, anger, depression, and guilt. Then I found out there are physical symptoms of distress. The first year of widowhood is just crazy!

I didn't know at times if I was coming or going but I couldn't stop moving. Sometimes this meant traveling the U.S. to visit our family and friends. Other times it meant talking on the phone just about all night because I didn't want to go to bed alone. The adrenaline I had pumping through my body felt like a steady flow of caffeine. Eventually my body said ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!

As the one year anniversary approached, that I became a widow, I caught a cold. Not only did I feel tired and fatigued but I ended up physically and emotionally drained. At first, I didn't understand why I felt so run down and couldn't get better. I was told from a friend, who had also experienced a tragic loss in her life, "It sounds like post-traumatic stress disorder." She explained that stress from a past event will bring the illness on. Your body breaks down from all the pain it's lived through.

I realized that I had neglected my body pretty badly this past year. I had multiple sleepless nights from anxiety, as if I had drank endless pots of coffee. "And you traveled the world, never stopping to catch your breath," my friend, Carol reminded me. "You were probably scared to stop, to face what happened." And once I thought about it I realized that I didn't want to stop. But now I had to. My body was too exhausted. But I felt better that I now had a logical explanation.

It was now a time to rest. The Lord says in Matthew 11:28, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." I knew the time had come.

My blogger friend, Ferree, from Widows Christian Place, raises an interesting question as her blog post this past month....

Does Resting in the Lord Equal Trusting in the Lord?
Ferree writes....I came across the following passage and thought it fits perfectly with my Saturday's theme of urging widows to rest. Grief drains, exhausts, and stresses people out emotionally, spiritually and physically. Rest in each of those areas is essential. Here's a good analogy.....click here for the rest of Ferree's post from Widows Christian Place.

Joy After the Mourning

One of my first sighs of relief, came right before the first year anniversary of my former husband's death. It felt as if I had been on a very long journey and I got to finally stop and rest for a short while. I was tired of mourning. Grief in the first year of widowhood was just down right exhausting!

Instead of withdrawing into sadness as the one year anniversary approached, my busy schedule kept me moving ahead. I reached a new stage in my grief journey where for short periods, I could find comfort and happiness. I found a weekend to myself when my daughters had a weekend sleepover.With no parental responsibilities, I made up my mind to go out and have fun.

I went out dancing and socializing with some friends and it felt good to have some excitement back in my life. This may have been a turning point and revelation that there was more to life than grief. I also began to realize how powerful the mind is when you put your mind to something.

I knew there was going to be more sad and depressed days. More disorientated feelings of ups and downs. This was natural. But I was satisfied that I could find 10 to 20 percent of my days becoming more joyful than I had within the last year. Some people would say,"Oh, I still feel sad and depressed most of the time...80 to 90 percent of the time". I saw my glass 10 to 20 percent filled.


I'm a believer that life is 10% what happens to us and 90% in how we react to it. It's in our attitude. What good does it do to beat ourselves up over becoming a widow? Can we change anything back? No. And of course we didn't want this to happen. In fact we wished it never did. But unfortunately it happened.

Now, I was in the middle of a transformation in my life. I wasn't sure at this point what I'd be changing into, but I knew that I was in the process of finding a new me. And I knew deep down somewhere that I wanted to be happy again. God promises us that, "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning" (Psalm 30:5 NKJV).

Everyone's So Happy...It's Sickening!

The higher the enthusiasm at the dance studio rose, the lower and more depressed I felt. I didn't want to be part of this excitement. Most of the dancers' fathers went to the competitions. I had to go by myself. The lonely widow. It wasn't fair!

"Mommy, how do I look?" My seven year old daughter, Nicole, stood in front of me ready to join the eight other girls in her lyrical group for her first competition. "Like an angel." I smiled. I was happy watching her during the performance. It didn't matter if they even won. It just gave me comfort while I watched her dance.

But as soon as the song ended, my comfort vanished. I didn't want to be there. Everyone was so happy, it was sickening. I just wanted to hide in a corner and cry. I didn't feel like I belonged sitting with the parents. Nelson should be here like the other dads. Here I am--alone again! It's almost a year and it still hurts.

My friend, Dinah, and her husband, Arturo, were at the competition with their daughters. "Come sit with us for the awards," Dinah said. "Are you feeling OK? You're awfully quiet." I sat down next to them and stared at the stage. "I'm fine."

I just wanted this over so I could leave. And the minute the awards concluded, I stood up to go. "Do you and Nicole want to go eat with us?" Dinah asked. "No, I just want to go home." I quickly left before having to talk to anyone else.

I realized how lonely and sad I still felt at times. And I also knew that I still needed my friends' help. Why would I push Dinah away when she was trying to help me? It's hard enough having a widow friend, then to have a sad and depressed one that's pushing you away. I felt awful and knew I had to apologize to her.

Even after this realization, I still went through periods of not wanting to be around "happy" people. Especially when it came to recitals and activities that other fathers were a part of. But I always liked being around my friends, even if they were happy. They were there to gently guide me back to a healthy state of mind. They loved me unconditionally until one day, I could love again and be happy, too.

And now I'm one of those "happy" people. And I'm sorry if any one reading this is sickened by that. There will come a day...when happiness reigns again for you!

P.S. Next week there will be no blog. I'll be on vacation, and I'll be visiting my "happy" friends, Dinah and Aruturo. And I'll be very "HAPPY"!