
It was about 3:15 a.m., and I was home in bed when the phone rang. It was right beside me, just in case. My husband of 62 years, Dan, was at a memory care facility. He was back after a stay at Stanford Hospital - recovering from COVID that he contracted at the facility.
My first thought was, “This can’t be good,” and it wasn’t. A hospice worker was calling to tell me that Dan was having trouble breathing. I couldn’t be there because of COVID restrictions, but I talked to him. Fifteen minutes later, the phone rang again; it was the hospice worker. The love of my life had died.
Neil Diamond's words in the song “The Story of My Life” were true: “My life begins and ends with you.” Life as I knew it ended on January 22nd, 2021. My partner and confidant were no longer by my side, and a new life as a single woman began—ready or not.
I started the newsletter to help me heal and share my experience. With lots of help, I’m moving forward. In it, I’ve written many articles about Dan and shared my progress—the fits and starts, the highs and lows.
I’ve built a new life and planned for future articles to focus more on myself and aging well, and they will to a degree.
But I was wrong about the idea that I would move on quickly. When my parents died, I missed them and thought about them, but I got past it. This loss has been very different.
Experts say that losing a spouse is devastating and requires one of the most significant life adjustments a person will ever make. They say that the loss and the new identity thrust upon a spouse may take at least three years and longer to adjust. They say to grieve at your own pace; it will get easier, your feelings will become more manageable, and your memories will fade.
Grief counselors advise clients to talk about the loss, who the person was to them, and the circumstances surrounding the death. They ask them to describe their emotions and feelings and advise them to build coping strategies for holidays, anniversaries, or birthdays.
Websites I read said I'd get through it if I stayed with my grief, found new hobbies, volunteered, made new friends, and generally got on with life; I’d get over it, that hasn’t necessarily been true.
Four years have passed, and I now understand the breadth and depth of the loss. I could not—did not ever imagine—the impact it would have. “My rock, the person I considered my soulmate, is no longer here with me.
On this, the anniversary of his death, I haven’t quite figured it all out. Can he be a part of my life today, but differently? How could that work when he isn’t physically present?
Next week, I plan to talk about the four tasks of grieving and how that information has been helpful.
I’d love it if you could share the Aging Well Newsletter with others. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned through my years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible. More than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.
So please forward this email to a friend and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:
Thank you so much for being part of the Aging Well community.
Janice Walton is a psychologist, widow, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and writer. Her book Aging Well: 30 Lessons for Making the Most of Your Later Years is available on Amazon, and she has written articles for Substack.
It's Been Four Years.
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