Three years is not an insignificant amount of time to be in a relationship with someone.
Three years is how long Megan and I dated before we were married.
Three years is how long Megan was “healthy” during our relationship.
Three years is how old Shelby was when her mother was carted away in an ambulance, on her way to an unknown future.
Three years is how long Sarah and Drew were together before his death.
Three years ago, Sarah and I met.Read more
If you’ve read Sarah's Post this past Sunday, then you are aware that she and I (and Shelby) were in Corpus Christi, Texas, over an extended weekend. One of her longest and closest friends was marrying, and Sarah herself was a bridesmaid. In that regards, I wasn’t a widower this past weekend. I was the “second partner” of a widow.
I’ve chosen to expand upon this. Sarah and I are in the unique position of both being writers here, both being widowed, and both dating (and cohabitating) with each other. While much of my writing deals with the emotions, stress, and perspectives of losing Megan, this past weekend was much more important from the other side of dating a widow.Read more
I'm finding it a bit lonely, this whole “being alone” thing. Back in my real life I often craved alone time. Just one hour of peace and quiet was like winning the lottery, because the last time I had such a thing was somewhere around 1992.
The last couple of decades have been filled with career and intermingled with babies, followed by toddlers, followed by teens. Several of those teen years were particularly difficult, even before Ben got sick, so it has been a long, long time since I experienced peace and quiet.
Now it seems that all the hours are quiet. Not much peace, just endless quiet.Read more
When you are a widow or widower, and you’re dating, It truthfully doesn’t matter how “good” you think things are going. There will always be some aspect of your new relationship that becomes amplified quite simply BECAUSE you are a widow/er. It may be a perceived slight in comparison to how your pror person treated a situation, or it may be an observation that your “second chapter” (I hate that term, by the way) actually does something better or more desirable than your first. It can be good, or bad; it doesn’t matter, it’s amplified.
Each time one of these moments arises, one can’t help but think “well, it wouldn’t be this way if my first person hadn’t died”. It can bring up emotions that are deep seated, yet hidden. Emotions that you did not know even existed, and perspectives that you had never thought about.
One of these moments occurred between Sarah and I on Sunday night, where we both were trying to explain ourselves clearly and with love, yet emotions only continued to rise.Read more
So, you’ve decided to begin dating a widow. You met this person online, in a bar, through a mutual friend, or via an interest group of some sort. You may have met by chance at a convention, or at a singles night nearby. The point is, when you met that person, you didn’t necessarily know them as a widow.
Disclaimer: I met Sarah at Camp Widow, so I was kind of privy to that information beforehand.
Regardless, you’ve shown an interest. You may be just starting to date, or have known this person for years. If said widow also shows an interest, buckle up, because it’s going to be interesting. Here are four things that are somewhat unique to dating or being in a relationship to a widow or widower.Read more
I’ve known Sarah now for almost two years. In that span of time, we met, at Camp Widow, began dating, she moved to Ohio, and has since moved in, officially, with Shelby and I. She’s been here in Ohio for one year, as of yesterday.
I found Soaring Spirits the day after my husband died from depression. I googled the term 'suicide widow' - reeling from shock that these strange words were now something I needed to make sense of.
One of the links that I clicked contained the heart-felt words from a young widow named Melinda who had also lost her darling husband Sean to depression and was sharing her story to help others, like me.
Melinda's words connected me to a community that would save me from losing my mind. I sat for hours, reading back through her past entires, devouring the words that I so needed to hear.
Every night, for well over a year, I would read this daily blog before going to bed, to remind myself that I wasn't alone. There were other brave men and women who had walked this path before me and, like them, I too would find my way. One day, the relentless ache would ease. The sadness that sat in my stomach would lift and I'd start to enjoy living again, rather than feeling lost in the fog of grief.
Sometimes I take for granted how much Dan's death affected me psychologically. I coast along, feeling like I'm doing ok and am happy, healthy and in control. Until, like a booby trap, something blows up and the trust issues, abandonment issues and general fear of getting close to people or losing control detonate and wreak havoc in my mind.
I have no reason to feel insecure in my new relationship. I trust the guy, he's wonderful, I honestly believe he'd never do anything to hurt me but of course that doesn't mean I won't get hurt.
Life is great, so why do I have these sporadic moments of feeling like I'm going to lose it all again. It can make me crazy.Read more
I'm batting jet-lag to write my blog today, so I apologise in advance for any typos (or any more than usual!) and if I ramble on a bit. I got home to Brisbane, Australia on a red-eye flight from the USA this morning, after three weeks away. It was a wonderful holiday, with the highlight being Camp Widow West in San Diego, however I reeeeeally missed my boyfriend.
We'd been in constant contact while I was away, counting down the days, and then hours, until we would be reunited. He was waiting for me at the airport this morning and when I dragged my tired ass through the arrivals gate and into his arms, I hadn't realised I'd been holding my breath in fear that I'd never get that moment with him.
You see, I haven't missed someone like that since Dan died and it reminded me of that feeling I had almost every day for the first year or so after - that sensation of aching to hold him and touch his face. However, unlike missing my dead husband who I would never get to hold again - I was missing someone very much alive and waiting to hold me too. The excitement of that was such a stark contrast to the agony of missing Dan, it was a very strange and confusing feeling.Read more
I'm writing this from an AirBNB apartment in the heart of New York City, a loooong way from my home in Brisbane, Australia.
I flew out here for a holiday with a good friend (and fellow widow) after attending Camp Widow in San Diego last weekend, and we've been having a wonderful time.
This was my third Camp Widow and while Kelly Lynn spoke about the concept of 'Camp Crash' yesterday, I've found that for me, the crash has typically been delayed until after I've returned home, as the holiday element of my trip has provided a distraction from the return to every-day life. So I'm still waiting for the reality to kick in... but in the mean time, just going with the distraction.