There’s this secret club that you hope never to become a member of and that’s being a widow. I’ve run into a couple of women who have been widowed recently or within the past year, which is still recent.  I’ve pointed them to the services at The Grief Center and the widow’s support group there.  It really does help to hear that you’re not the only person going through these things.

It doesn’t seem to matter who we are; there’s a common bond to this.

I’m doing well and am keeping busy. I’m running and working out and eating well and I feel good. That’s great but I still find myself missing Dave. There are days when I feel so very alone or that I just want to tell him something. I’ll say that those days are further apart these days.

I finally emptied that laundry basket of Dave’s clothes that’s been sitting in my bedroom for over three years.  I still have some of his clothes to donate; that man was a clothes horse. I just discussed this with a woman at the library. She’s working hard to donate her husband’s clothes. She said he was a clothes hoarder. I said I knew the feeling.

I found it easier to get rid of my own clothing. Slowly, most of these clothes will go. This might have been a good task for someone to have done for me shortly after Dave’s death.  Oh well, I’ll make it through them eventually.