Even almost four years later, the title still does not roll off my tongue naturally, although it has softened. “Widow” is a painful reminder of the torturous cancer battle Jeff and I fought side by side valiantly, finding pockets of joy throughout the painful journey until the day he died. We never let a diagnosis infect our love or dictate our destiny. I never thought saying the word “widow” would ever feel normal. However, wearing the title of widow at fifty-three was a tough pill to swallow; it felt impossible to weave into my identity. Admittedly, there have been times I forgot I was a widow as I moved through life, joy and pain. In the beginning, when the grief was so intense and I never believed joy and happiness would weave into my life again, the title of widow felt all-consuming. Out of self-preservation of the love we want to hold onto forever, none of us ever wants to contemplate widowhood; it’s almost too painful to imagine. Locking the thought of widowhood out of our minds is far easier than facing the painful reality head-on. However, we mustn’t let fear fuel our actions. We can transform heartache into healing by learning to embrace all aspects of widowhood, from lost love to painful and beautiful memories, weaving joy through grief. This approach allows for more comprehensive healing, as we weave joy into the pain rather than waiting for the grief to end before finding joy again.

It’s been a misconception for years that widowhood means we must sit in a dark room, enduring endless pain, wearing the black widow veil and not allowing light or joy into our lives. We don’t have to live in misery and pain to remember our loved ones honorably. I once heard that it was dishonoring a deceased loved one if, as a widow, we brought joy back into our lives too soon. I’m here to unequivocally tell you that as a widow, it’s acceptable and healthy to find joy, laughter, and even love, weaving them all together while grieving. There is no specific timeframe for grief or for when it’s acceptable to reintroduce joy into your life. Our hearts will always carry the pain from the love we lost, albeit in different measures. Over time, that pain will soften and transform. 

Through effort and processing my feelings of drowning in sorrow, I no longer hide my title as a widow, nor am I afraid to say it; I have adapted to weaving it into my life. There are moments when the word widow carries painful memories, weighing me down to a fragile state and leaving no room for joy to seep in through the cracks, making the pain feel debilitating all over again, even years later. However, those intense, painful moments occur less frequently as I focus more on joy than sadness.  

Most days, I can say the word “widow” with a sense of pride, remembering that I honor Jeff and the life we created as I share and weave stories of his memory and our love. It’s healing and essential to our thriving and surviving that, as widows, we allow ourselves to laugh and cry through the pain and permit ourselves to grieve while simultaneously weaving joy back into our lives at every opportunity, without guilt.