What I’ve learned in my first year as a widow is nothing I ever wanted to learn, but here I am. These are some of my observations and lessons learned this past year.

1. We were the perfect couple – for each other. No one is perfect, and Chuck and I certainly had/have our faults and sometimes got on each other’s nerves, but we were perfect for each other. We loved each other unconditionally and didn’t put unrealistic expectations on each other. What you saw is what you got. Putting each other first was a huge part of our longevity. Let’s face it, we were kids when we fell in love, and that young love often doesn’t last. I am forever grateful that we grew together instead of apart. Over the years, whatever was important to one of us was important to both of us, whether it was my writing and dream of being published, or Chuck’s passion for cooking and catering. Over the years, we faced many challenges, but we figured them out by leaning on each other. We were always a team, ready to tackle things head-on. I miss being “we” and hearing my biggest cheerleader’s voice, but I believe he is still cheering me on from heaven.
2. I am more capable than I thought or gave myself credit for. Chuck did almost everything for me because that was his love language. He wasn’t a man of many grand gestures; instead, he made ordinary moments and tasks feel more meaningful. I do almost all of those things now, maybe not as Chuck did, but the best way I can. I think he is proud of how I have handled most things since his death, and I am sure he is having a good laugh about some of the other things.
3. My expectations of others were not always met because I was using an unrealistic metric. I was remembering how Chuck reacted after the death of a family member or close friend, and I forgot that not everyone is like Chuck. People do what they can or are willing to do, and expecting anything else is unrealistic.
4. Grieving takes time – its own time – my own time. I will never get over losing Chuck and will be sad until the day I die and am hopefully reunited with him. That doesn’t mean it will always be as hard as it has been this past year. Grief is now my constant companion, but I don’t let it consume me every day. Some days it still does, and that’s okay. Other days, I can make it through most of the day without tears. One is not better than the other, just different. Nights are still the hardest, wanting to reach for him and finding only the space of his absence.
5. I can be grateful and sad at the same time. I am so appreciative of the family and friends who have been there for me this past year. I don’t know what I would have done without them. Yet sometimes, when I am with them doing something Chuck would have been part of, a sense of melancholy floats around me as I remember the past and wish he were still here. It is all okay – the laughing, the remembering, the longing; it is all part of the process of grieving.
6. I am not alone. Only another widow or widower can truly understand what it is like to lose a partner, especially if they were truly the love of your life. Stepping out of my comfort zone and interacting with other grievers has been so helpful. Whether it is the bereavement group at church, the books I have read on the subject, a Facebook group, or Anderson Cooper’s podcast, “All There Is,” being connected to others who understand what I am going through and feeling is very helpful and reassuring.
7. My life is not over, but the life I knew is. The story of our life together had a plot twist I never saw coming. As a writer, I know revision isn’t always easy, and this is the hardest revision I have ever had to do. Now I spend time discovering who I am as “me,” not “we.” Honestly, I hate it, but I know I need to do it; it’s like exercising and eating healthy.
8. Being Chuck’s wife was an honor of a lifetime, and carrying this grief isn’t a burden but a love letter I’ll keep writing for the rest of my life.

I am sure I still have a lot to learn about navigating life without my partner and best friend, but I am trying to just take each day as it comes. Now that I am retired, I have all the time in the world to figure things out, and I am sure that eventually I will.