Widow is a Four-Letter Word

It took me a long time to call myself a widow. I foolishly thought that if I didn’t give myself the label, then I wouldn’t become one. That didn’t stop the whole world from calling out the truth, starting with the night I turned off his machines to let him go.

Earlier that morning, I was simply a wife, thinking of nothing but summer plans for our family. Later that night, I walked out of the hospital with the start of my widow’s paperwork and his big, battered ring in my hand. It was the beginning of a change in myself that I didn’t want to accept. A lot of time and healing had to pass until I let that word truly fall from my lips.

Until then, I treated the word widow like a swear word, meant to be uttered only under my breath. The problem was that I love swearing. Raised by two well-versed blasphemous parents and married to a self-professed cussing expert, I had amassed an impressive catalog of foul language.

Stub my toe? Break a plate? Cut off in traffic? Forget my phone? Forget what in the hell I was doing? All perfect opportunities to let a few choice words fly.

But trying to say the word widow early on was like trying to speak Danish, where a word can look much different than it actually sounds. Unless you are born speaking it, you may always struggle with even knowing how to begin.

“enke”

– Danish word for widow

And honestly, no one is born a widow. You have to become one. You have to struggle and practice. Most importantly, you have to accept that the word describes you. Especially if you want to speak this language fluently, because you will need new words in your new life. 

Luckily, it’s not the only word that describes me. Mother, sister, daughter, friend, coworker, dog owner, water lover, music lover, curse word collector… widow.

I remind myself everyday that I’m just learning a new language and with practice, it’ll get easier. With new words, I can find a new path.