Thoughts on Telling People

One of my favourite songs is Nerina Pallot’s ‘Learning to Breath’. I’ve always liked it but after Josh died the words took on new meaning and it became a life line. To me it said I’ll be ok. I don’t need to have it all I’ll be happy with what I’ve got. One of the lines in the song is “I knew a man who lost his wife, it was the way he chooses to describe his life” and I thought “I don’t want to be that person, I don’t want to be defined by my loss” yet even though I don’t tell every person that I meet that I’m widowed I do tell a lot of people. Maybe it’s because I meet a lot of people. The journey I am on just now started the moment Josh’s life ended so how can I hide that? It’s not who I am but it’s the reason I’m travelling on my own. His courage and love of life is the driving force behind my determination to live the life I have to the full. He is so much a part of me it feels like to hide or deny his death is to hide and deny his whole existence and that is one thing I am just not capable of doing. I know there are people who would disagree but that’s the thing about grief it’s different for everyone.  Some widows get by without telling people. Some people are intensely private and I understand that they don’t want anyone and everyone knowing their business. But me, well I tell most people I spend any time with. I’m an extremely open book (or should I say blog?) which is why I was taken aback when my mother asked me if the folks on the farm knew about Josh. I answered that of course they did. I had been there living in their home and working with them for weeks. It was completely alien to me that they wouldn’t know yet to my mother it would be natural as she is a very private person. There is the practicality of it. I talk about Josh. I talk about his family as my in-laws. Yes I could gloss over and refer to them as friends but they’re not just friends they’re family, I automatically name them as such and I am too lazy to monitor my conversation to convert ‘in-law’ to friend every time I mention a phone call or share an old memory. Nor am I willing to let people believe that Josh and I split up. We emphatically did not and when I talk about the man I used to live with I want them to know that we did not choose to end that state of affairs. I want people to know we were happy and a solid couple and I have the right to that acknowledgement.

But maybe there is more to it? I once met a person who mentioned they had been homeless for a time. She said she was proud and told people not for sympathy but so they could see how strong she is. Maybe there is an element of that in it. I want people to know I am a widow not so they can pity me but so they know that a widow is no longer the Victorian stereotype forever in mourning for all that is lost. I want them to know that widows are people too and how strong and fabulous we can be. As a female scientist I’m used to the double take “You’re a what?” except now instead of laser physicist it’s widow and it’s a little more of a conversation stopper. I don’t want people to define me as a widow I want to redefine what widow means. Someone once told me the origin of the word widow means ‘to be empty’ but I am not empty. I am full of love that was given to me by Josh and that will never die. I am strong yes because he was here but I am stronger because he was taken. I am not ashamed of what I am. I am proud of what I have survived and accomplished. The thing is after the double take and a variable adjustment period most people handle the truth just fine. And because I am so open there are a whole bunch of people who know Josh by proxy.

Which is all very good so why is it that now I am settling in the one place for the next few months I am reluctant to tell people? I’ve told my housemates but at work I am glad that no-one has asked any awkward questions. I don’t want to deny Josh and everything he has been to me but I don’t want to be defined by my loss and I fear that at this point I am. Maybe I am tired of trying to change the whole worlds view of grief and loss, after all it’s not exactly a small goal. Maybe I am tired of wishing the world could be other than is it. Maybe I just need a hug. I don’t really know, I guess this is one of those transitions that has to be gone through after all I can’t go through my whole life reacting to my ‘situation’ maybe this is me really getting to grips with living again; and that could be the scariest thought of all.