





A Keeping It Real Post
“Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.”
Henry Rollins
Early in my grief journey I found another Widow’s blog, in which she stated, “Loneliness isn’t a strong enough word.” And she was absolutely correct. If the Eskimo can have a bazillion words for snow, then there should be more words for loneliness. I’ll settle on Widow Lonely for now. Widow Loneliness is overwhelming and all-consuming. In the beginning, it’s a raw pain that just can’t be described using anything in a known human language.
Over the last few months, I’ve spent a lot of time examining the loneliness, working to not only make peace with it, but to find the beauty in it. I’ve struggled to articulate the loneliness of widowhood, spending hours in conversation with my fellow W’s. I’ve even looked at why I’ve avoided writing about it. (FYI, referring to a W as “the lonely widow” or any variation thereof, is throat-punch worthy.) I purposely waited to post this until after my Widows and Dating series because I didn’t want to cloud the dating issue with the fact that loneliness can sometimes push us into making decisions we aren’t ready for. (More on that next week.)
The Shame in Being Lonely
Like many facets of bereavement and grief recovery, loneliness is one that is glossed over. For some reason, we are ashamed to talk about it. It’s as if admitting we are lonely is a weakness. So we ignore the elephant in the room. News flash: I’ve yet to meet a W that doesn’t struggle with the loneliness that comes from losing her husband, no matter how she’s moved forward in her life.
Acceptance of being alone isn’t the same as being okay with being lonely. And before you succumb to the knee-jerk reaction and tell me I have friends and am just alone, not lonely, I’ll remind you this post explores being Widow Lonely. I fully acknowledge I have amazing friends. They are incredible humans I’m grateful to know and have in my life, but it’s different. Their presence in my life keeps me from being isolated but has no bearing on my loneliness as a Widow.
Companionship
If you’re looking for a post about sex (or lack thereof), move along stormtroopers, these aren’t the droids you’re looking for. But there is an inherent physical loneliness that comes with the loss of your life companion. Waking up alone, living your day alone, watching TV on the couch alone, dining alone, and going to sleep alone when you’ve had your beloved ripped away from you, is horribly lonely.
And it’s not just the big stuff. My first business trip after Dan died was a stark reminder of how much my life had changed. While my colleagues, Amy and Cameron, went back to their hotel rooms to call their spouses, I went back to my room and wondered what to do since I had no one to call. Back then, the loneliness looked like a big Dan-shaped void in the universe and felt like a plastic bag over my face, suffocating me.
Alone
I have no problem being alone. I actually enjoy it. I travel all over the globe, usually alone. I like the freedom of doing what I want, when I want, without having to consult anyone else. But aside from having full control of the TV remote, the day’s itinerary, and not having to share the closet, having someone to share in the beauty of all the adventures I have and places I get to visit would be amazing.
But, wanna hear a true confession from Miss Independent? I cried (in secret) the first time someone brought me my morning coffee because they remembered how I liked it. It was a beautiful gesture; one I’m not sure I ever appreciated until it was gone. I suddenly remembered how much I’d missed sitting in my pajamas with another human, and being handed a mug of the magic de-zombifying elixir. It reminded me of how lonely it’s been since I became a Widow. It reminded me that no matter how positive I try to be about life, I miss having someone to share it with.
Partnership
Whether we have kids or not, our husbands were our partners. We made decisions, together. We faced the consequences and rewards of those decisions, together. I can’t adequately describe the loneliness that accompanies any major decision that has to be made. Even now, two years later, I struggle with self-doubt and loneliness whenever I have to make a big decision alone. We don’t know anything about the future, but before you become a Widow you believe one thing is certain: you won’t be facing it alone.
Multiple Emotions
It’s important to make the distinction between loneliness and sadness. We can still be happy but feel the loneliness. Perhaps that’s another reason we don’t talk about it. It’s confusing and full of complex onion-y layers. For example, the joy at holding my grandchild for the first time was sitting arm in arm with the overwhelming loneliness of wishing Dan was there, too.
The Beauty in the Loneliness
Like many of us, I recoiled from the loneliness, running from it. But I’ve learned all that running does is just make you tired. There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and I’m learning to find the beauty in the loneliness, like a single bloom in the desert. Henry Rollins was right. Loneliness forces us to appreciate the beauty in everything, and everyone, around us.
So there you have it. My random thoughts on being Widow Lonely. Got a topic you want to read about? Message me. And as always, thanks for reading.
XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce
POST SOUNDTRACK
Only the lonely
Know the way I feel tonight
Only the lonely
Know this feeling ain’t right
There goes my baby
There goes my heart
They’re gone forever
So far apart
But only the lonely
Know why I cry
Only the lonely
Only the lonely
Know the heartaches I’ve been through
Only the lonely
Know I cry and cry for you
Maybe tomorrow
A new romance
No-o-o more sorrow
But that’s the chance
You’ve got to take
If your lonely heart breaks
Only the lonely
Songwriters: Joe Melson / Roy Orbison






Another great, spot on article. Thanks. This is a hard road.
Thanks for reading.
Love this post!
Thanks for reading Pam!
Thank you, I became a widow in August 2016, 4 days before my husband and I were moving to our retirement home. It is difficult to reconnect with life, actually as you know widows do not return to who they were befor the loss. Thank you, I feel like I have a new friend.
Claudia, sending light and love your way. Thanks for reading. XO, L
Lisa, Once again your thoughts are from the heart. Many things you said are what others have told me after they lost their spouse.
Thanks Lucile. XO, L
Thank you Lisa. I’m not even 3 months into widowhood. I too lost my husband to cancer at a young age. We were best friends and together for 30 years. The sadness and loneliness are hard to separate at the moment but I get up each day and try to do something to move forward. Reading your blog is helpful and brings me some relief knowing I’m not alone in this process of grieving.
Elizabeth, I wish I could hug you. You are definitely not alone in this journey. XO, L