The club no one wants to belong to

by Kim Roberts

By Kim Roberts
Clarion Herald

In the blink of an eye, my entire world changed.

I was happily married for 36 years, and my husband and I finally had adjusted to being empty nesters and were looking forward to our new life.

And, just like that, he was gone.

He died in our living room without any warning after a celebratory dinner. I had just finished my first issue of the Kids’ Clarion, and he was so proud of me that he didn’t want me to cook, so he ordered takeout from one of my favorite restaurants.

We ate dinner and were about to watch a movie, but within minutes I was calling 911. Two EMS teams were working to bring him back – they could not. I stood there in disbelief, wanting to turn back time, wanting to understand what happened. I wanted to know how this could possibly be part of God’s plan.

I still don’t know.

Nothing prepares you for this level of grief and despair. The complete shock and disbelief of losing the love of your life, the father of your children, right in front of your eyes is incomprehensible, and I cannot put it into words. There just aren’t any words; only sadness.

So now, at the age of 57, I am a member of the widows’ club. I don’t know what to do, what to say, how to act or who I am anymore.

I have found that most people around me don’t know what to say or how to act when they are with me. While they are all well-meaning and have loved my husband – I’m sure they are in shock as well – they honestly do not know what to do for me. How could they when I don’t even know what I need?

I am thankful that they are trying.

I do know that from this terrible experience, I have a few triggers that have occasionally set me off over this short time. The words “thoughts and prayers” ring hollow with me for some reason.
Just tell me you’re sorry. There are many times I detest being hugged, mostly because I know that it will bring on tears, which is odd to me because in my former life, I was a hugger.

And, this is a big one: Being told how strong I am just hits me in the gut.

I don’t think strength has anything to do with what I went through that night and what I’m trying to navigate now. I’m operating in pure survival mode each day.

Being told I need to be strong puts a lot of pressure on me right now – as if I don’t pull myself together, I am failing. How can someone be strong when they watched their soulmate die and
now are faced with endless days without them?

I know that everyone truly wishes me the best and wants to console me. I think we all kind of go into autopilot when a death occurs and reach out the best way we know how. I have a new perspective being on the receiving end, unfortunately, and have had a lot of time with my grief and thoughts on the subject.

What I do know is that I miss my husband more each day that I am without him. I don’t know how I’m able to get up and get anything done on any given day. Nothing is getting easier.

I do have a great group of people trying to hold me together. My children are the gift that my husband has left me, and without them, I would not be able to get through this at all.

Last, I most definitely had the absolute best husband. There was not a time when he did not put me or my children first in his life, and I always knew how much he loved me. He set a good example for our children by living a life of kindness and generosity, and he always worked so hard to give us the best life possible.

So what now?

I guess like all the other clubs I have belonged to throughout my life, I will eventually become the president of the widows’ club.

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