Sweet Lady Dye and I shared some time together yesterday. She’s been a source of information about my new town, and someone I enjoy visiting with once every five weeks. Lady Dye is a beautiful gal, inside and out. Whenever she speaks of important matters, it is evident that she is kind and gracious, surrounding herself with thoughts of goodness and light. She has a true smile, while exuding optimism in her outlook on life.
During our visit yesterday, she shared the experience of a sudden and devastating holiday loss. While listening to the events leading to a tragic ending, I was transported back to my experience with VST. I thought nine weeks of an illness was very quick. Lady Dye’s person lost her husband in just days. I was reminded of how fortunate we were to have VST with us until he took his last breath. Lovingly comforted by those he trusted, he slept, surrounded by the familiarity of Dunmovin.
During Covid, families are separated from their loved ones who are hospitalized alone. Medical staff have become adopted family members, giving company and a gentle touch to those dying from this wicked illness. Our medical heroes have yet another role to play. Not a task they volunteered for, but one they are brave enough to assume. Caregivers to our loved ones dying.
Covid stripped this new widow of the comfort of children and friends, just as it had for me. Grieving in the age of pandemic isn’t something for the faint of heart. At a time when you need hugs from every angle, there are few. When you need friendly faces smiling at you and telling you everything is going to be okay, they are covered in masks, with only the gentleness of eyes looking on. Separation when you most need togetherness. It’s a cruelty that we, as Covid Widows, are experiencing in real time.
Covid has robbed us of the healing aspects of funerals, memorials, or celebrations of life. Reduced in size and intimacy, it has erased the ability to grieve together and feel for one last time a sense of community while saying Good Bye. Many special family members and friends couldn’t attend VST’s service. Dangers of infection to health compromised individuals increased making the risk too great. Although technology helped us bring family together, it wasn’t the same as being together one last time.
So now, another widow sits alone wondering what happened. How did it happen so quickly? Why was her spouse the one chosen? When will things return to normal? Answers found in unique ways as the journey of widowhood begins, those questions still run through my head on occasion. Slowly, an acceptance has come that some answers are not for us to know.
Blogging from this the 10th Month of widowhood, I turn back and offer a hand and a prayer to this newest grieving gardener. She will uncover unique and personal answers on her journey. I offer a listening ear and a hand in friendship. She’s invited to join me in the garden. We can exchange thoughts and ponder ideas from a new point of view, while remembering the hardest of days traveling alone. Thinking back, new and interesting commonalities may be found outside of widowhood. Just like that, a new friendship formed.
If I’ve learned one thing, it’s a very lonely place to be, even when surrounded by the people you love the most. Leading lady, center stage in a very sad play, you’re all lone, not being sure of the lines that come next. New widows, look for the hand that is reaching for yours. Enjoy the warm touch of someone willing to sit with you for a little while. Each day will be better. Not the same, but not quite as sad, as we make our way together towards spring.