Twenty Ways to Help a Widow without Being an Idiot
Are you alone because your partner died?
I have been a widow for 14 years.
My father was a widower for 17 years.
My maternal grandmother was a widow for 14 years.
My maternal great-grandmother was a widow for more than 30 years, as was my great-grandmother on my father’s side.
You’re never a widow or widower for just a year. It’s forever.
Some of us find that word, widow, difficult to claim or even to say, but I embrace it, knowing it’s just one part of who I am.
Today, June 23, is International Widows’ Day. Do we need a special day for this? I don’t know, and there doesn’t seem to be an equivalent day for widowers, but it’s a good time to think about the fact that in every couple, one of them is going to die first, leaving the other alone.
Of the more than 13.7 million widowed persons in the United States, approximately 80 percent are women. We live longer than men and are less likely to remarry. That’s a lot of women on their own.
No one aspires to be a widow. We’re coupled with orphans in the Bible as people to be pitied. The only thing more pitiful is a leper. In Biblical times, a widow had no Social Security or pension and no way to earn a living. If she did not have grown sons to support her, she was in trouble. The Bible doesn’t say much about widowers. They seem to find new wives very quickly; problem solved.
Not.
Things are a little different now. While some widows are left with almost nothing to live on, others are financially comfortable and own their homes. Either way, it’s still a jolt when we’re required to check that “widow” box for the first time, and we miss that warm body on the other side of the bed. Rich, poor, or in-between, alone is alone.
In a New York Times essay, “How to Talk to a Widow,” Betty Rollins wrote about what it’s like. The cards and compassion come flooding in for a while and then all goes quiet. People don’t know what to do or say, and they mistakenly assume that after a year, we must be all right. We are not. Our loved one is still gone, will always be gone, and that hole in our heart will never heal.
Yesterday was the 41st anniversary of the day my late husband Fred proposed to me. I thought about it a lot, feeling both joy that it happened and sadness that he’s gone. In a weird coincidence, it was also the 51st anniversary of my marriage to my first husband. I pondered that a bit, too. What if we had stayed together? Everything would be different.
But today is a new day, and I am moving ahead on my own. What can we do to help someone whose partner has died? (Or what can they do for us?) A lot. The following suggestions apply as much to widowed men as to widowed women.
Listen. Be the one she can say anything to, the person who will let her laugh, cry, curse, or get silly.
Hold her hand. She doesn’t need chicken soup anymore. She has learned how to pay the bills and get the trash out on garbage night, but do you see that glimmer of tears in her eyes when she glimpses a couple kissing or holding hands. Reach out and squeeze your widowed friend’s hand or put your arm around her. You don’t have to say anything. Just let her know you see it and you care. Besides, she misses being touched.
Talk about the one who died. It hurts more to pretend he never lived. It’s comforting to know he’s not forgotten.
Resist the urge to find her a new husband. She doesn’t want another man; she wants the one who is gone. Most widows I know never want to marry again. They can’t bear the thought of watching another man die. If she asks for dating help, jump in. Otherwise, leave her alone.
Resist talking about all the people or pets in your life who have died. It does not help. and no, you don’t know how she feels. Every loss is different.
Offer specific help, whether it’s “Let’s go for a walk” or “I can cancel his online accounts for you.” Shovel the snow off the driveway or chip the ice off the car windows. Bring over a movie and popcorn. Don’t say, “Call if you need anything.” That puts the burden on the widow, and chances are she’ll never call.
Help her get through the holidays. She may not have the energy to decorate, shop, or entertain. Offer to do it for her. If she just needs someone to hold the ladder while she brings the ornaments down from a high shelf, do that. Or let it be. It’s okay not to have a Christmas tree.
If she usually hosts a big dinner, ask if she’d rather go somewhere else this year. It’s good to change things up, but if she really wants to maintain the traditions, that’s okay, too. If she has no family around, don’t assume she has somewhere to go on Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, Fourth of July or her birthday. Invite her to join you, not just the first year but every year she is alone.
Let her be the master of her own life. If she feels the need to move to a different home, don’t quibble or question; bring boxes.
Offer to take her husband’s things to the thrift shop, dump or wherever, but don’t rush her to clean out the closets. She’ll do it when she’s ready.
Invite her out to eat. Dining alone, a new widow can feel as if everyone is looking at her. Ditto for going to a party or a show where she’s surrounded by couples and families.
Share the name of your tax accountant. Losing a spouse complicates things, but don’t get involved with her money unless she asks for help.
Be aware of the anniversaries and “firsts,” but let her be the one to bring it up. Do not say: “It’s X date. You must be really missing him today.” She knows what day it is. She may be trying not to think about her loss, or it may be that other days, the ordinary ones, are harder, like the night the garbage disposal jams or the bathtub won’t drain.
Offer rides to places where she might need a driver, such as medical procedures or taking the car to the shop, things her husband used to do.
If she doesn’t seem to be eating, don’t nag; take her out to lunch or dinner. Or suggest you make a meal together. Many widows find it difficult to cook for just one person.
Let her keep wearing her wedding ring. She will take it off if/when she feels ready, which may be next week or never.
Notice something that needs fixing? Offer your handyman or your husband or do it yourself. Say, “Where are your light bulbs? Let me take care of that.” Teach her how to do minor repairs. Just knowing the difference between a nail and a screw and a socket and a wrench can make a big difference.
If she’s smiling and laughing today, don’t assume she’s “over it.” She’s allowed to feel some relief that she’s not taking care of a sick husband anymore. It’s all right to enjoy a good meal or a good joke. She still has that hole in her heart, even with a new lightness in her step. A thought, a memory, the sight of someone who looks like him—anything can trigger tears. Let her laugh and let her cry.
Round up other people whom she would ask for help if she could only make herself dial the phone.
Check in. If she’s a good friend, she should be checking on you, too. Let it work both ways. She needs to feel that someone still cares, someone who understands that it’s not over in a year, five years, ten years, or when she’s 110.
Suggestions? Comments? Let’s hear them.
Read about it
International Widows’ Day | United Nations
https://www.widowmight.org/7-tips-to-help-a-widow//
https://dragonwagon.com/8-ways
Waukesha to Waldport reading
My writer friend Kathie Giorgio is in Oregon on her annual writing retreat from her home in Wisconsin. We are joining for a reading at Cafe Chill, 540 NE Commercial St., in Waldport on July 2. The festivities start at 5:30 with casual dinner offerings of soups, salads, and wraps before we read from our recent work. Between the two of us, we have published 31 books, including fiction, poetry, and nonfiction. Kathie’s work is quirky and wonderful. Check out her website, https://kathiegiorgio.org.
If you’re in the area, do come. No reservations, no cover charge. We will have books for sale and look forward to visiting with old and new friends. Our thanks to the wonderful Diana Buckley for not only welcoming two busy authors but planning a special meal for the occasion.
How did I end up alone? My first marriage ended in divorce. My second husband died of Alzheimer’s after we had moved to the Oregon coast, far from family. I never had any kids, only dogs. Now I live by myself in a big house in the woods. You can read our story in my memoir, No Way Out of This: Loving a Partner with Alzheimer’s, available at your favorite bookseller. Visit https://www.suelick.com for information on all of my books.
Wonderful again Sue. I really liked the one about inviting or at least asking about holidays including ones like July 4th not just for the first year, but forever. That's really nice.
Great post! Thank you.