Your first thought of me (If you don’t know me) wouldn’t be “she’s a widow”. I mean no one sees a young woman full of life with three beautiful children under the age of 8 and have this thought. But there are many like ME amongst us, both Male and Female.
Some of us are afraid, some are ashamed, some have been discriminated and some isolated. We are that minute part of the community no one readily remembers. You may not know it but we still love to be loved, love to live, love to share laughter because we have known what it means to be broken.
We are still human. We might be too much for some people or an inspiration for others. The truth is if being strong is your only option, courage becomes your second name. We accept who we have become, what we have endured yet we are determined to rise from the ashes.
Let me tell you about grief, It is a monster, it has no colour or shape and gives no notice prior to its arrival. It is a natural response to stimuli (absolutely nothing to be ashamed of), and not only widowed people grieve… Any loss you can’t get over is GRIEF.
“Widow” is an undeserving title but with it comes a membership badge of Perseverance, Strength, and Honor. The willpower to fight to finish. I’ve seen death, felt it, smelt it, and touched it, but I rise. Widowed means I walked through the fire but you can’t smell the smoke.
The next time you see a Widow, see a CONQUEROR. My name is Diane. I am not what happened to me but I am what widowed looks like!
“My life was forever changed when my husband of 7 years died unexpectedly three years ago leaving me and our three babies behind. My versatile nature helped me embrace my predicament. I now run a support group for the young and widowed hoping as I process my journey through writing others like me can be encouraged and find healing. ‘He trains my hands for war so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze” therefore it’s only a chapter not the end of the story.’”