I have known many widows, starting with Pauli, my best college friend, when we were both only 29 and had three children. As part of her therapy, she and I made a stab at outlining what we thought would be a perfect guidebook for widows. I felt like an authority on the subject. Later, in addition to my Mom and older friends and family members, my sister Joan and two nearby friends, Sue and Gretchen, all lost their husbands. By the age of 51, I knew more about widowhood than I cared to know.



When I was 55, Bruce, my husband of 35 years, died with no warning in bed beside me. The shock was almost unbearable. The first thing I learned: "It's a whole lot different being a widow than knowing one." For the first few months I often felt I was the only person who had ever known such agony. I doubted my ability to survive. I had never lived alone; had never even spent a night alone in a house. Sometimes it seemed Manda, my little Shih Tzu dog, was my only salvation. She grieved with me, and she needed me. She needed me to keep on keeping on.

The second thing I learned: "Only other widows really understand what widows go through." Pauli knew that; we cried together by long-distance. My sister knew that; she arrived at my house within four hours of her phone call and it was a four-hour drive. My neighbor, Karen, knew that; she arrived at my door shortly after the ambulance departed...with a warm coffeecake. Another nearby widow, Jeanne Yvonne, organized a lunch for guests who would come from out of town for the memorial service three days later. Sue and Gretchen came to visit a few weeks later. These widows knew what I needed before I did. They helped assure me that I would survive.

However, my widowed friends could not be with me whenever I needed them. What I really needed, but couldn't find, was a comprehensive widow's guidebook like the one Pauli and I had toyed with writing decades earlier. I needed it as a friend to keep by my side 24 hours a day. At six months, I vowed to write one, and eventually I did publish "For Widows Only!"* That lengthy writing process helped me to survive my own widowhood, to grow as a person, and to develop a deep commitment to helping widows everywhere for as long as I live.

Seeing the book in print was a high unlike anything I had never known, but even better is the ongoing the joy of hearing from widows who have either read the book or chatted on my support website**. Their positive feedback thrills me. Apparently, other widows have had the same needs I had, and it has been a delight to help them while helping myself.

It was while reading messages on my website some months ago that I realized there remains one universal problem for widows. That is framed by my first two lessons: "It's... different being a widow than knowing one," and "Only other widows really understand...." The problem is that most with whom we associate are not widows; most in our circles of family and friends do not understand us or know how to help us. They may want to do both, but few have the tools to do so.

In an effort to alleviate this problem, I have developed some "tools" for non-widows. I include them here, with the hope that widows who feel disassociated from friends and/or relatives might resolve budding conflicts by calmly handing them this list of helpful suggestions. I suggest they say something like, "I realize that you want to help me through this ordeal, but don't quite know how. Maybe these tools will help."

Tools for Friends and Relatives of a Widow

It can be difficult to maintain a smooth relationship with a widow...unless one has walked in her shoes, either as a widow or as a parent who has lost a child. Rather than withdrawing from her because of your discomfort or fear, try to learn more about her plight and ways you may be able to help.

Lesson #1: Learn to be endlessly patient. W idows are totally consumed with their own anxieties, pains, finances, needs, fears and safety, as well as crushing loneliness and memories of the death. They need to talk constantly and repeatedly about these things. Other topics seem trivial and irrelevant. Widows also may be short on tact, so do not feel slighted.

Lesson #2: Realize that no matter how crazy or dysfunctional widows seem, they may be perfectly normal, "for widows." Expect erratic behavior, but learn about danger signs to watch for and how you can help.

Lesson #3: Do not abandon her. Most widows feel abandoned by their mates. They also feel abandoned by friends who stay away or do not call. Even if it is uncomfortable, stick with your wounded friend; let her lean. Above all, do not be fooled into thinking her grief is over because of a "good week". Grief can last from one to seven years, but with ups and downs.

Lesson #4: Expect erratic behavior. It is "normal" for widows to experience difficulty concentrating, calculating, making decisions or reading; absentmindedness; confusion; extreme anxiety; erratic eating and sleeping patterns; extreme lethargy, fatigue; feelings of hopelessness, helplessness, despair and/or depression; recklessness and/or carelessness; abuse of drugs or alcohol. Watch carefully, though, for signs that they desperately need help.

Lesson #5: Learn Special Skills: Learn how to really listen; maintain eye contact; avoid criticism; appreciate the uniqueness of widowhood...don't judge her by the experiences of others; anticipate low spots (such as anniversaries); ask her to let you know when she wants you around and when she needs to be left alone.

Lesson #6: Be helpful, not pushy: "Would you like me to help?" will go a lot further than "What you need to do is..." or "That endless crying doesn't help anything." Dealing with a hypersensitive widow can often be like trying to dance around barbed wire, but you can learn to watch yourself carefully and tip toe cautiously when necessary.

Lesson #7: Remind her that you care. If you feel you have been away too long, let her know you have thought about her. Bring her a little gift of chocolates, a bunch of cheerful daisies, or some Greek olives.

The guardian angel pin a friend brought me touched my heart. I felt I really needed it, and I wore it on my bra for months. A good widowhood book (such as mine) would also remind her on a daily basis that you care.