Living through loss: Coping when your life partner dies
WE HOLD HANDS
as we sit alone in the small office, waiting for the doctor. At last he enters, followed by a nurse, no cheery hello, only a glance, as they sit across from us. At last he looks up from the unopened folder in his lap and says, “Mrs. Tanneberg, there is no easy way to tell you this, but we are 95% certain you have pancreatic cancer. I’m sorry.”
The room feels cold. Our hands feel cold. The nurse says nothing. The doctor waits. Finally, Dixie asks, “How should I feel about this diagnosis?” He pauses for a moment, then replies, “Nervous?”
Wordless, we walk from the office down the long hospital hall to the elevator, out to the car and start the drive home. Halfway there, I am finally able to utter four words, “I am so sorry.” She replies quietly, “Me, too.”
No plans. No roses. No cards. No dinner out to celebrate. No Hallmark movie ending. Two lovers at home, holding onto one another. Fragile. Breakable. He, wanting desperately to be there for her. She, gathering in herself what this means.
It’s Valentine’s Day.
COULD THIS BE YOU
or someone you know and care about today? This is a day to celebrate your love for the most special person in your life. To do it with creativity and care and love. You are God’s marvelous gift to one another. Cherish your love today and everyday. But if you or someone you know may be grieving his/her loss today, lift them up in your prayers. Maybe reach out to them with a call or a card. They are fragile, breakable, too. Wondering. Gathering into themselves what all this means. Why they are alone.
C.S. Lewis, Britain’s well-known scholar, novelist, and writer, lost his wife to cancer in 1960. It was the great tragedy of his life. To Lewis, Joy Davidman was “a splendid thing; a soul straight, bright, and tempered like a sword.” Accordingly, in his book “A Grief Observed,” Lewis presents Joy as a woman “whose strength, faith, honesty, humor, and loyalty made her the best of companions, and brought out the best in him.”
In a letter Lewis wrote to a friend, he describes his grief, saying, “I too have lost what I most loved. Indeed, unless we die young ourselves, we mostly do. We must die before them or see them die before us. And when we wish [to have them back] — and how agonizingly we do, o how perpetually! — it is entirely for ourselves, for our sakes, not theirs.”
ALL GRIEF IS HARD
and losing your life partner is a devastating event from which you may feel you’ll never recover. But you will. You must. The permanence of what has happened hits you like a truck, leaving you more wounded than you ever imagined. He/she has made their final move. From earth to heaven. Not returning. Not tomorrow. Not the day after.
THEN WHAT SHOULD WE DO, YOU AND I
Who remain on this special day? It’s okay to shed tears. To wish he/she were still with us. It’s okay to stay by yourself if you wish, or to go out with friends to dinner and a movie. It’s okay not to feel guilty that you are here and your dearest is gone and you may be the only person at the table without your loved one.
It is as C.S. Lewis said, “we wish to have them back, but it is entirely for ourselves, for our sakes, not theirs.” Nor would our loved one wish, now being in the presence of Jesus and family and friends who have gone on before, to return to us here. They will welcome us with much joy later. When we meet in heaven. Meanwhile we must gather our life up in our hands and live with meaning and purpose.
SO TOMORROW I AM HELPING FACILITATE
a widow/widowers gathering. It’s what I can do. There were 11 women and 3 men in the room last week, ranging from 3 months to 75 years of widowhood respectively. Becoming a group. Becoming friends. Telling stories. Our own. And of the ones not there. The price of admission to this group is too high. But the encouragement and healing we give to one another is priceless.
It is important to care for oneself. And one of the best ways to do this is to give time and care and love to someone else. Next week, I’ll share some additional things you and I can do in the days ahead. Meanwhile, remember God loves you. And I’m giving you a hug, too, even if it is against Covid pandemic rules.
May Jesus keep us close
Thank you Ward…This is my 1st Valentine Day without my husband Mike. He passed away 9/28/21. & I’ve had my up & down days. I really miss him, but I wouldn’t want him to come back to this life. He is so lucky to be in heaven. I always think that of everyone who knows the Lord. No more pain & healed immediately.
Your words have always been precious to me and your relationship with your wife has always been the model of what a marriage should be and you are still and always will be my pastor. I am very blessed to have you as my in the flesh ,example of Jesus, for all these years. Hugs back at you, Pastor T! P.S , this June, Lou and I celebrate 40 years of being hubby and wife, thanks for being there that day!
Your words are so wise. Thanks, from a widow to a widower!
Thank you Ward for organizing this very needed Widow/Widowers group, I have found that being with others experiencing the loss of their loved ones comforting in the respect that they too are experiencing similar feelings of loneliness, loss or despair. Losing a life mate of 57 years is devastating. I found that sharing our feelings brought a closeness and a strong desire to comfort one another bringing the unexpected beginning of healing of my own negative feelings. I had not left my apartment for anything other than necessary reasons. I felt being quarantined due to covid was more of an excuse for me to be able stay home with my newly adopted cat. I just did not want to go anywhere. I am now slowly rejoining groups of friends instead of having my own pity party. I found that I needed to be around others with similar emotions. Our Widow/Widowers group is the beginning.