DO YOU KNOW A WIDOW?

A primer on how to be a widow’s true friend

by Carolyn Eaton-Nowinski

Our culture hides death and dying. We don’t like to think about the inevitable. That for every living thing that takes a first breath at some point it will take its last. That includes us, all of us.

When death comes, leaving one of a couple alone, we’re accustomed to the Hallmark movie trope of the lonely widow waiting to reopen their heart or the soap opera character losing their spouse and dating a long lost love three weeks later. Life goes on – and goes on quickly in the bright sparking fantasy world of Hollywood.

As I write this, I have been a widow for 1 year, 1 month and 3 days. John had a vibrant and active life, which I shared with him for just shy of 27 years. He was diagnosed with glioblastoma (brain cancer) that took him from me 3 months and 13 days after his diagnosis. Keeping track of time like this is a very common habit among cancer patients and widows. We precisely mark the day life changed completely, changed our views of the world and changed part of our core identity. We often call our spouses our “other half” – when half of yourself is taken away, it hurts too much to describe. But our culture does not approve of wailing and rending clothing. Our society requires the stoic, stable survivor dabbing at tears as they choose their loved one’s coffin and other arrangements. The unwritten maxim is that “above all, do not make others feel uncomfortable because of your grief.”

The financial impact of widowhood can further create a sense of drowning. Losing half of annual income would create problems for anyone. 30% of female and 20% of male widows will have to move in the first year, primarily due to financial strains. Some move due to a desire to escape memories and ghosts, but most would rather stay in a home where they’ve known love in a familiar environment.

The problem with placing all of this pressure on a widow’s shoulders, is that grief changes brain chemistry. In order to function fully, the brain requires a delicate balance of hormones and neurotransmitters to help handle all of life’s chaos. Any extreme stressor can upset that balance which is why couples often get angry and can come close to divorce when building a house or expecting a child. Serotonin levels, a hormone required to handle stress and balance mood, drops precipitously in grief. This causes difficulty sleeping, irritability and can contribute to development of major depression (which occurs in one third of widows). In addition, the ability to make serotonin to return to normal levels is impaired due to an increase in metabolic inflammation and spikes in cortisol, which also affect appetite, fluid balance and the immune system. Levels of dopamine, a key neurotransmitter, drop – reducing the brains ability to become motivated and reduces the pleasure response to food and other stimuli. This lack of essential brain chemicals and increase in inflammation creates the brain fog most widows report and in older widows can accelerate cognitive decline.

I have very few memories of the first 10 weeks after John died. I planned a very nice celebration of life (complete with open bar – John’s only requests were: no religious sermons and have alcohol available) – at which I spoke in my stoic widow’s role. I vaguely remember a week later being ill and driving myself the 40 minutes to the closest ER in my network (I must have looked up where to go). My first truly clear memory after John’s body was wheeled out of the house on what resembled a large furniture dolly was my dog Rosie rolling in fresh dog poop at a rest area in Florida. I was en route to visit Uncle Gene in Florida so Aunt Kathy could visit family. (Along Florida’s I10 corridor are some of the best public rest areas – including spigots at all of the picnic tables).

As some of the fog lifted, I became aware of what I refer to as widow induced ADD. The inability to focus on much of anything for long. Forgetting a task partway through by being distracted by another. At a time when trying to manage the chores of two people barely being able to focus enough to complete my normal responsibilities. Auto pay saved my credit score. I found if I planned a bigger project with people, I could stay on task better. I had some much needed renovations done – having people come into the house reminded me to keep the main areas clean. Having things clean made me feel better and more organized, but cleaning for myself was difficult. Very slowly, the brain fog improved, with moments of my normal self peeking through episodes of listlessness and scrolling through Facebook or playing solitaire on my phone for hours. I found companionship in the online community of widows, who reassured me I was OK, who’d been in my shoes. Who knew what to say, and almost all of whom talked about the “friend drift”. Those – often close- friends who’d promised to be there, then drifted away.

At some point in your life, you will know someone like me. There will be a friendly couple that are part of your community, who you see at barbeques and backyard parties, couples dinners and book clubs, and one of them dies.

Over the first few weeks, you are “there” for your friend. You bring a casserole, promise “anything you need”, you attend the funeral or celebration of life. You hug through the tears.

You promise to call, then you don’t. I know – life gets busy. Then, you make plans and decide “it will be too hard for her to join the happy couples at this event” and leave her off the call list. You decide to invite her for coffee or lunch, something where you can have a nice private chat. The reality is, you feel uncomfortable being around their grief. The intended invitation is never sent. You think about her, but don’t pick up the phone. And months go by, now you feel awkward.

What you don’t know is how lonely it is for the surviving spouse. Needing familiar connection to lift the spirits through the grief – even if just for a moment with a text or voicemail. And early on, we often decline invitations, not feeling ready to handle the triggers hiding in unlikely places. But we need the invitation, we need to know people are reaching out. Some days are better and we feel up to joining. When the invitations stop, we feel even more isolated and alone.

So how can you be a good friend? For one – call, even text. Connect, if only for a few minutes. Let her know you really are present. If she declines an invitation to dinner or a backyard barbeque, stop by afterwards with a plate or take away. If it has been months – it is OK to call to reconnect. Be honest, and let her know you have been thinking about her. Go ahead with the coffee invitation.

Another area where widows feel overwhelmed are the day-to-day chores. The shopping, cooking, cleaning, taking out the garbage, mowing the lawn, gardening, changing lightbulbs, getting the oil changed on the car, paying the bills, touching up the bit of paint that flaked off the garage. There used to be two people to accomplish these things. Between the hormonal changes that creates a sense of inertia, and knowing you need to do something but just can’t make that first step creates a sense of failure. Sometimes taking a shower feels like work. For the friend that has children – you might think – “she had kids, I’m sure they’ll help”. Adult “kids” may have kids of their own, and no matter the age, are also grieving a profound loss.

Don’t wait for the widow to call. Reach out to her. Don’t give the general “anything you need” – ask – very specifically “would it be helpful if I mowed the lawn for you? Picked up groceries? Applied touch up paint on the garage?” etcetera. You will likely see the areas needing assistance as months go by.

When you see her venturing out in public, stop for a minute and really ask how she’s doing. She’ll give you one of the standard widow responses: “I’m getting by”. “You know – day by day”, and always “about as well as I could be”. Smile and say you are thinking of her, and be genuine.
Grief comes in waves. Widows will seem to do really well for awhile, then next time you may see her with unwashed hair and unkempt garden. One of the experiences that surprised me was how hypersensitive I became to even the smallest slights and oversites. I had never been an emotionally fragile person, but when a group I was interested in joining handed out a flyer at their meeting about a coffee get together late morning one weekday I was excited about the possibility of connecting with like-minded people. The coffee shop in question was pretty close to my house, so I walked over. The place was empty. No sign on the door directing to a different location. I was really hurt, I held it together until I got home then sobbed (I also double checked the flyer – I had the place and time correct.) I didn’t go to another meeting. Little things like saying you will call that night and then you don’t can send us back down a crashing wave. And serotonin levels take a long time to recover. Although I’ve built up a little resilience, little things still set me off after over a year. Many widows in my groups talk about the second year being worse because you’ve survived the first year and are finally truly processing the loss in the second.

Which brings me to what can you say to console a widow? Not much, there are no phrases that make it better or take the pain away. The safest and least triggering are variations of “I’m sorry for your loss”. Yes, that is the phrase used by every cop show in the English-speaking world. But it does something important – it acknowledges the loss and demonstrates empathy.

The problem is, most people will not stop there. In attempting to console a widow, people feel the need to repeat platitudes we have all heard over the years. When you become a widow, you realize these are not helpful, and some are even anger provoking. I had my list, and then I asked my fellow widows’ group on Facebook for their least favorite phrases. We understand these phrases are said with good intentions, but they’re not helpful.

They fall into six categories.

1. Religious: “He’s in a better place”/ “Its part of God’s plan” /“You must feel comfort knowing he is in the arms of Jesus”, and the extremely dreaded “Everything happens for a reason” (I could not find one person, among religious and not religious people who found that phrase appropriate, let alone comforting. Please strike it from your talking to any widow phrase book). If you know the person and spouse are religious, thinking these things and praying with the surviving spouse can be helpful – what is most helpful to the widow is the contact and love coming forth. People who are religious will accept the words with a nod and a smile. In the first few months, the words themselves are not comforting. Non-religious people try to accept the comment with the spirit intended, but find them irritating because this is not their belief. People like myself who are more spiritual than religious do not see God and Heaven in the traditional Christian sense, will sigh and nod. I know atheists and agnostics who will throw these phrases back and seem antagonistic because they find the phrases boorish and insensitive to their own beliefs (one friend stated she finally replied to being told it was “part of God’s plan” – “Well that is a pretty sh*** plan”.) If you are unsure of the person’s religious leanings, I refer you back to “I’m sorry for your loss”.

2. The desires of the deceased: “He would want you to go on”, “He wouldn’t want you to be alone”. It is interesting that the speaker felt they knew the deceased’s mind better than the surviving spouse. There are no time limits on grief. Some people feel ready to connect with someone romantically at less than a year, some don’t feel like getting into a relationship and still feel like they’re “cheating” on their spouse 5 years later. Bringing up your desire to match make or your opinion that the person needs to find another person is just that – your opinion. If the widow makes mention of wanting to meet someone, then you can bring such things up and suggest your brother’s uncle-in-law’s cousin who is single.

3. Attempts at empathy: “I know how you feel – when I went through my divorce…” /”When my grandmother died”/ and – I kid you not “When my dog died”…STOP RIGHT THERE. Death does not equal divorce. Death is absolute. Death is final. There are no possibilities of getting back together. There’s no conversations, even dreaded ones, about children retirement money, or ANYTHING. Divorce is painful, but nothing like widowhood. Unless you’ve experienced the unimaginable loss of a child or are also a widow, you do not get to use this phrase. I am not saying you did not grieve for your grandmother or pet, or that a divorce is not a loss – all of these things are grief inducing events, but they are not on the same level as the loss of a spouse. As I mentioned earlier, death of a spouse is death of part of your identity. I am sure you loved your grandmother, and you adored your pet, but this in no way is even close to the death of a spouse and loss of a planned future. We realize you are trying to make a connection, but inside we are really mad at you for bringing this up. It also has a habit of making the conversation about you when it started as sympathy for the widow.

4. The attempt to put a positive spin: “At least” …”he’s not in any pain”, “he’s at peace” No, but he’s not alive anymore. This is not a positive time. We acknowledge he is no longer in pain, but this does not change our pain and loss.

5. Compliments: “You are so strong”, “I don’t know how you do it – if my ___ had died I don’t think I could go on”. We are not being strong, we are simply trying to survive. And if you follow with “I could never have handled…” – then the implication is that we did not love our spouse as much as you love yours. The second part also changes the conversation back to you. Not cool.

6. Self-interest: Sexual and financial: “Are you going to sell your house?”/ ”I can take that old truck off of your hands”/”What are you going to do with …”/ “If that widow’s fire becomes too much – give me a call”/ “You could likely use some company in the bedroom – am I right?” -Comments about personal property and items are completely inappropriate – especially in the first few weeks and months. Trying to make taking property for much less than its worth and phrasing it like a favor is especially irritating. We’re grieving, we’re not stupid. It does let us know who needs supervision once in our homes. The sexual comments are also interpreted as a form of intimidation. They remind us we are now in a vulnerable position, and makes me happy to have a cattle dog/pit bull mix reactive to men. Some of my widow friends heard these comments within three weeks of loss of their spouse.
Now you can start thinking about how you can be a good friend to a widow. The most important thing is to acknowledge that their life is completely different. Make a check in schedule, and try hard to stick to it. If you live close by, when you make a meal, make extra and bring it over. Generations ago, people brought casseroles, bread, and other items to grieving families and widows. This has dropped off with less cooking (those rotisserie chickens from Costco are only good for a few days). But convenience meals are available through Amazon and local grocers. When you’re tired and grieving, meal prep becomes low on the priority list. While crackers with cheese and sardines and a few slices of tomato are technically fairly healthy, it would feel better to reheat a meal provided by a friend. It feels even better to go out to a meal with a friend. Many widows lose a lot of weight – check in on your friend’s diet – ask about their meals and appetite.

Widows are lonely, and afraid of what could happen when alone. What happens to the dog if something happens to me? Who will be my emergency contact? Talk to them about these needs. Do they have someone who can take their dog in an emergency? Who is now their
emergency contact? Do they need someone to drive them to a medical procedure? (After a colonoscopy, you can’t call an Uber). Ask about the last time they had their oil changed, house filters changed, and other maintenance. If you are near and can help – please do!

The most important thing you can do is to be present. And persistent. Invite them to coffee, to dinner with friends, and follow up. If you do not live closely, choose a movie and watch it “together” – commenting on a messaging app throughout the movie (a friend of mine that lives 1500 miles away and I often tune into Svengoolie on MeTV at least one Saturday night a month. Even though the movies are often silly, some are terrible – it makes for a fun night). Sometimes sitting on a porch and being nearby while reading is enough.

The sad part is, at some point in the future (hopefully far, far into the future), either you or your spouse will be filling these shoes. One of you will become part of the widows club. How would you like to be treated? How would you like your spouse to be helped? Becoming the friend you know you would need in the future will help make the connections that will help you get through among the most trying time of your life.

Special thanks to the Non-religious widows/widowers club and the We are the widows/widowers of GBM on Facebook for their invaluable support and contributions to this article.