Dude, Where’s My Widower Instruction Manual?

Losing your spouse/partner is a profoundly difficult, painful, and complex challenge… and there’s no ready-made guidance available.

I was widowed in 2017. My wife, Charlotte, fought a 7-year battle with cancer. The experience was horrific, but her courage was genuinely superhuman. She was the bravest person I will ever know. About a week after she died, I was filling out a form that required information about my relationship status. As I mindlessly ticked the "married" box, I noticed that peculiar "widowed" option; vaguely recognisable but void of any personal significance until that moment.

The bomb goes off

That mundane paperwork exercise represented the day a label was affixed to me that I never imagined would apply. There usually is no experiential reference point for people who are unfortunate enough to join this involuntary club. I often wished that someone had given me a guidance manual to help navigate through spousal grief. There is so much complexity to grapple with. A shockwave is triggered when someone dies that travels through the lives of all those who loved that person. Thankfully, most people can rely on friends, family, and routines to provide a sense of continuity after a loved one dies. Such a structure may not exist for a bereaved spouse as they are likely to have lost the core of their immediate family, day-to-day routines, and even their identity (particularly if the deceased required significant care and support).

The struggles commence

The overwhelming nature of spousal grief is apparent during the early stages of spousal bereavement, where a ferocious psychological firefight is fought on multiple fronts. These battles can intensify, recede, and shapeshift beyond the point at which the last bunch of flowers arrives at the door. How do I get through today? Who am I now? What will my life look like in 10 years? How can I relate to other people? How will I pay the bills? How do I cope with my fear and anxiety? Spousal grief can be unique, confusing, and isolating. No wonder people feel bewildered and rudderless.

There’s no manual?

Actually, I wish a guidance manual had also gone to those people who struggled with the "how" of supporting me. Individuals around the bereaved spouse can understandably become overwhelmed by the struggles they witness. People can freeze in the headlights of another’s grief and say nothing. There are many reasons why supporting the bereaved is a complex process (1), but a reluctance to intervene often comes from the fear of offending or causing upset. Perhaps this reflects a pervasive tendency in many Western cultures to (psychologically) run from the subject of death (2).

In the absence of a guidance manual for bereaved spouses, I believe it is essential to emphasise the fact that the experiences described above are normal (barring the development of separate mental health issues). Acknowledge and give yourself permission to experience these (or any other) elements of spousal grief. This forms part of the "normalisation" of grief-related thoughts and feelings. But don’t confuse this perspective with rolling over and giving up on life. Normalisation is merely a means to help prevent the further strife associated with attempts to get rid of otherwise understandable painful experiences.

For those trying to support a bereaved spouse, it may be perfectly ok to state your anxieties about providing support directly: “I want to help but don’t want to do the wrong thing. What can I do for you today?” A statement like this is often totally appropriate. To some extent, it does not matter if the answer is “Nothing” or “I don’t know”. The simple acknowledgement of the situation can help the bereaved spouse feel supported.

Hope

No one ever wants to tick the "widowed" box on some form. But people must come to terms with the fact that this experience will always be a part of you, and there is no finish line to reach. You are going to experience great change in the issues you face and how you relate to them. But, some of this stuff can lead to lessons learned and positive outcomes. Charlotte has taught me more about myself since she died than any other person or experience. In this way, a type of relationship is maintained between us that helps me to live a good life. I am hopeful you too can learn something of value from one of life’s most painful experiences.