This time the blog is from someone new. Jean retired as Chair after the AGM and I have succeeded her. 

My name is Dorothy Turner and you will be hearing from me as Chair from time to time as you did from Jean.

The NAW continues to offer support to our members; we have all “been there, done that and bought the T-shirt” so to speak, so we all know what it feels like.

We are striding ahead with our recent policy of welcoming men and partners as members and we have been fortunate in persuading David to join the Council and to represent our men membership. So for all you gentlemen out there in particular, feel free to write on the blog and you comments/questions can be forwarded to him for you.

Our Get Together groups continue to grow and they are doing exciting things. I hear the Essex group are having a champagne and strawberry day as their local answer to Wimbledon.

Wimbledon brings the thoughts of summer and holidays, a difficult time for those of you who find yourselves single, many of you like me, for the first time in your lives.

My first holiday as a single traveller was daunting but I chose a cruise in the Med and Bosphorus with a well-known Norwegian line because their ships are relatively small and lone travellers are well catered for and looked after.  I made several good friends with other lone lady travellers and my initiation into the ‘new world’ of the single traveller was very positive. So much so, that I became more adventurous and dared to take on a cruise to the Caribbean this year with them.

For any of you who are as reticent as I was, I say, “give it a try”, you won’t look back I am sure.

When Christmas came around I know I didn’t want to be home so I joined another group of lone travellers with a company specialising in holidays for us. I found that too very comforting and because there were outings every day, yes, even on Christmas Day!  The time passed so much more easily and Christmas was very low-key all round.

To take heart, those of you who feel you can’t do it, just take a look at some of the brochures and do what I did, ring the companies and ask some questions. Some of them are very sympathetic to our situation and supportive especially when they realise it is your first time.

Good luck and let me know how you get on.

Dorothy

This is my last message as NAW Chair. After seven years in post, I have stepped down. Our new Chair, Dorothy Turner, lives in Somerset. She is looking forward to introducing herself and sharing her thoughts with you as time goes by. Watch this space!

For me, this is a time for reflection but not for goodbye. I am still a member and am also a Trustee so I shall continue to be actively involved in the NAW. My best wishes to everyone who has been in touch with me over the years.

It is eight and a half years now since my husband died and eight years since, purely by chance, I found the NAW. I was at very low ebb at that time and the NAW was nothing less than a lifeline for me, as it has been for so many others.

Had someone asked me before I became a widow - happily married as I then was with no idea of what was round the corner - what I thought about an association that offered friendship and support to men and women whose partners had died, I would have said it sounded like a good idea but not something that I personally would be interested in.

Why would I need the NAW? I would have asked. I had a full life, a good job, a loving son, lots of friends, and no particular problems. Yes, I knew it would be terrible to face life without Mike but wanting the support of a bunch of strngers who happened to be widows…? No way!

How wrong I was! Experience gives us a different perspective: my job ceased to matter, my son was supportive but had a life to lead, and friends fell by the way side. Suddenly, I believed my life was over. I believed I would never be happy again. I believed had no reason for living…

Then I found the NAW. Gradually I came to realise that just as, before my bereavement, I had no idea of the extent of the isolation and devastation I would feel, so too as a new widow I had no idea that a new life was out there, that I would enjoy it and be fulfilled by it, that happiness was possible and that life was most definitely worth living!

So how did the NAW fit into all this?

The NAW offers its members a context for rebuilding a shattered life. It gave me the space to redefine myself, to make new friends, to talk without embarrassment to others in the same boat, to realise that I could have a future. One thing above all, the NAW made me realise that I was not alone. I have enjoyed the warmth and security of being with others, now my friends, who have gone through the same ordeal and have come out the other side.

There’s no going back. Forward is the only way. And it’s an easier journey when accompanied by other men and women who, no matter how different in other ways, understand us because of our shared experiences.

I commend the NAW to you.

A couple of comments over the last few days have set me thinking. One was from Catherine, a widow of only eighteen weeks, who says she has gone from sitting in her pyjamas all day to being out all the time, doing anything except going back to an empty house.

The second was from Joyce, a widow of eighteen months, who having experienced a five-day holiday with friends found herself wishing that she had stayed at home. Having been relegated (as we usually are) to the back seat of the car - something which I well remember made me feel terribly alone especially the first time it happened - Joyce remarks that she still had to face coming home to an empty house with no one to chat to about the holiday. “Saying yes to every invitation is not always the right thing”, Joyce concludes.

Of course, she’s right - it’s not always the right thing. But that leaves the possibility that it usually is!

I do understand where she’s coming from though. A holiday made me feel that I was going backwards! Yes, there was the car episode but the worst bit for me was the late afternoons when we went to our respective rooms to rest, shower etc before the evening meal. When I was with Mike we always had a good old chat, lying on the bed, relaxing, talking about what we had done and what we had seen. On that holiday, what an upsetting contrast: there was nothing - just silence and me alone with my thoughts…

I suppose what made it especially bad for me, and I suspect for Joyce, was the fact that the friends were a couple (my in laws, in fact). In truth, if it’s hard for us, it’s hard for them too - but some friends are more thoughtful than others. (The more they said “we”, the more I wanted to cry!) The length of the break was a problem as well. Too much, too soon perhaps.

Joyce is right though when she says that it’s important to go with your gut feeling. Only you know how you feel - and that’s a fact. And yes, it is a big mistake to do too much. But you do need to push yourself even if it’s only a bit - as both Catherine and Joyce have rightly been doing. It isn’t easy. Our first steps, into a new, and unwelcome life, are very difficult and we do have to be kind to ourselves.

So, despite everything, my message to Joyce, Catherine and to others is this - don’t push yourself too much but do keep going out, especially if you can mix with other widows or others not entrenched in “coupledom”. Are there any National Association of Widows meetings or get togethers near you? Let me know where you live and I’ll put you in touch if there are.

To Joyce in particular I want to say this. You feel you are going backwards. You’re not. You were getting used to being alone (and that’s what it is” getting used to”, it’s not “getting over” or “forgetting”) and eventually your bad holiday will not seem so important. It’s just a temporary setback: you have done well already.

A final thought: I have now asked hundreds and hundreds of widows and widowers when the worst time was for them and a large number have mentioned the second year saying that it was only then that the reality really sunk in. However, regardless of whether you hit rock bottom sooner or later, the time will come when you will have a new life (even though not the one you expected) and yes, impossible though it seems right now, you’ll have happy times again. Trust yourself and believe it!

My very best wishes

Jean

I had a phone call from my cousin’s wife last night. She told me that George had died. Although we knew it was coming, and George faced it with courage, his death even after a long illness, was still deeply shocking.

We think we are prepared, but we’re not. I suspect that no one ever is. As Vivienne talked to me on the phone I could hear distant snatches of my own voice from seven and a half years ago. I recognised the sound of her tears mixed with her determination to hang on, to retain at least some self-control. There was disbelief too, for her as for me. Did she think, as I had done, that it just couldn’t be real, that she was dreaming or perhaps a character in some strange play. There was a sense of unreality too, a need to say how it happened, to describe the moment of death and the second she knew it was over, that he was dead.  And then there was all the practical stuff, saying she would let me know about the arrangements and so on. Already, numbness was kicking in, keeping her going…

What is certain is that yesterday her life changed forever. Then she was a wife; now, she is a widow. “Life goes on”, people say, and it does … but from the viewpoint of the recently bereaved it gets worse before it gets better.

But get better it will. Vivienne will not believe that right now, even less when the initial numbness wears off and the reality sinks in. Words of comfort from friends and family will seem empty. Like most of us, she’ll probably feel that no one understands.

Over time though, again like the rest of us, she will learn to adjust - just as George would want her to do. We don’t so much “get over it” as “get used to it”. Slowly we pick up the pieces. We do get through it: we do learn to live again. A different life certainly but, with a fair wind, it will be a happy one… no mater how impossible that seems at the beginning.

It’s another bank holiday  weekend - so I guess that means a lot of you will be thinking about other bank holidays in earlier and happier times. Most widows and widowers find holidays difficult.

When first bereaved most of us find that being alone brings back painful memories. “This time last year…” etc.  These thoughts can be, and often are, very painful as they come at a time when we are still very fragile and vulnerable, struggling to bring together the life we had with the life we have.

For those of us further along the line, holidays can still prove disruptive - often shattering the fragile new life style and the sense of routine we have struggled to build up. It seems as if everyone else in the whole world is busy, busy…. whilst we are stuck at home with our own thoughts for company.

It doesn’t have to be that way though.

Friends may have asked us out but have we accepted the invitation?  Many widows and widowers to whom I have spoken have said that the best piece of advice they were ever given was, “Don’t turn down an invitation!” Easy to say I know but good advice, even so.

Of course, you may not have had any offers.  Friends and family don’t always rally round as often, or for as long, as we would like. Building up new relationships - new friendship networks - is an all too familiar part of losing one’s partner.

Relationships that existed in the past do not necessarily continue….  Threesomes are not the same as foursomes. That’s certainly how it was for me at first - everybody else seemed to be part of a couple. Eventually though, I made new friends (other widows, single and divorced people mainly) and for some years now holidays have held no terrors.

So, for those of you out there who feel alone - or perhaps, given the holiday period, feel even worse than you did a few days ago, please try not to worry. As I have often said - and will continue to say - life does get better. But you have to work at it - no matter how hard that seems. Your future now is in your own hands.

Accept that invitation. If there isn’t one, go out anyway - a walk alone or a trip to the shops or the cinema is usually better than being stuck in at home. You might enjoy it and the TV will still be there when you get back!

My thoughts are with you.

Oh dear!

I was just looking at some comments that people had written when, unfortunately, I accidentally deleted them. I am so sorry. This isn’t supposed to happen. I thought I had totally got to grips with this particular technology. Not so! So, if you have written in over the last few days and there’s no trace of it up on the site you’ll know why….

I remember one comment in particular - from a widow whose husband had died in hospital after a long, hard struggle. Her story was very moving. She said that she just couldn’t stop thinking of all that horrible, bedside paraphernalia and, of course, the sight of her husband getting weaker and weaker. She wondered if those images would ever go – thoughts, shared it seems, by her daughter.

I too had my share of this. For a long time after Mike’s death, I couldn’t picture him in my mind’s eye without thinking of those last few days. All the good, the warm and the loving memories were totally obliterated by the sights and sounds of that terrible time.

It took quite a while for those thoughts to fade and for other pictures, of happier times, to take their place. Sometimes even now I can feel myself back there but rarely. My son - possibly like the writer’s daughter - has found it even harder than I did to clear his mind of the scenes stored in his head as if by a camera’s “freeze frame”. Now though, even his pictures of that time have faded and, like me, he is able to think of his father and recall happier times.

Anyway, once again – sorry….

This Easter, our NAW AGM safely behind us the previous weekend, I decided to write a post about our AGM.

So, I sat down and made a start … but then, rather than carrying on writing about our AGM, I decided instead just to read through people’s comments on the blog just to see if any patterns emerged in people’s replies. And, of course, they did! And so that’s what I am now writing about now!

When our partners die, we all feel that we are alone and we suspect that no-one else has ever felt as bad as we do - at least that’s what I felt! The reality is very different; there’s a tremendous commonality in how we all feel - almost regardless of our individual backgrounds and circumstances. That’s why, of course, it helps so much to meet up with others in the same boat…

But one recurring theme in people’s comments did surprise me. And that’s the high percentage of comments that came from people bereaved in their 50s .

This might be explained simply by the nature of on line activity, as participants are more likely to be younger. However, as my Vice Chair, Joyce Howe, is celebrating her 90th birthday in a few days’ time and is a big fan of email, the web etc I had better take care that I don’t fall into an ageist trap! And, in fact, I do believe there’s far more to it that.

Losing your partner at any age is just awful. There’s no good time, no ideal age, that’s for sure. You can look at it in all sorts of ways. Older bereaved people, for example, are more likely to know others in the same position; but for a variety of reasons they may find it harder to adjust over time. Younger widows and widowers miss out on the future they had planned and often have children to bring up single-handedly; but those very children may give them a focus, a reason to get up in the morning. (Incidentally, although the NAW has members of all ages, there is another organisation that is exclusively for the under 50s. It’s called WAY (Widowed and Young)).

Anyway, what of those in their 50s and early sixties? Well, as I say, a lot of you are in this group, as I am – and some of you do still have children at home too. One widow said to me, “I’m too old to go clubbing and I’m too young to hang my boots up!” How true! Doubtless my own personal experience has something to do with it but yes I do believe it’s a terrible time to be bereaved.

In one way though, widows and widowers of my age may have advantages over those who lost their partners earlier or later than us. We over 50s are old enough to have enjoyed a good life with our partners and to take comfort from the years we spent together. Equally, we are young enough to have the energy, including the physical energy, to get to grips with building another, future life. And no, I am not saying it’s easy! But having now talked to hundreds and hundreds of widows and widowers, I do believe that we may just be the lucky ones.

But easy or hard, young or old, it’s what we have to do. It can be done – though not overnight. It takes time. Finally though, for all of us, there is no option. We have to do it. We have to rebuild – and organisations like the NAW are there to help us. You are not alone.

I had an e-mail from a widow yesterday reminding me that Valentine’s day would soon be upon us. And here it is – 14 February 2008. As if Christmas wasn’t enough, she said, now there was another should-be-happy-time to cope with. She didn’t want to put a dampener on other people’s romance but she just didn’t know how she was going to get through it.

I am sure many of us sympathise. As a greetings card keeper, I used to go back and look at previous Valentine’s cards and cry over the messages. I found it almost impossibly hard to handle and, of course, days like today are so much worse than other days…

Will it ever get better? I always answer that yes it will. Not overnight, there will be advances and setbacks; it may take years to really feel that life is worth living. Sooner or later though (and there’s no telling how much time is needed) most widows and widowers agree that yes, it does get better.

Hold that thought! In the meantime, try to get out - especially if this means you meet other people in the same position. Sharing your experiences, knowing that you are not alone was for me, and I know for many others, a great help.

Have a look at our web site. Find out about our branches and our Getting Together county /area groups. It’s no magic wand but it will help.

My very best wishes to all of reading this especially to those who are finding today very tough.

Jean

As some of you will know, the NAW recently worked with the BBC in supporting a range of programmes about being widowed. I enjoyed taking part in quite a few interviews but I was especially pleased to write the support booklet “Losing your Partner” which the BBC gave out to callers and which is now included free in our pack of materials for new NAW members.

Many widows and widowers have contacted us to say how helpful they had found the booklet – particularly in those bleak early days - and this set me thinking that we should seek to expand the booklet into a book, to cover more issues and to tackle how people are feeling in more depth.

As some of you may know, one of the things the booklet does is to draw on the real true–life experience of widows and widowers. When our partners die we feel so desperately alone, even when friends and families rally round (and, of course, not everyone has that support). We often feel that no one else has ever felt as we do and that no one understands (although lots of people tell us they do!)

Talking to other widows and widowers reveals that plenty of people do understand - those who have been through it! As the comments on this blog clearly illustrate, there is a tremendous commonality in our shared experience -even though as individuals we may be very different.

Right now though I need your help. It doesn’t matter if you were bereaved recently or a few years ago: I want to hear from you about your experiences. For example, if you were working at the time how did the company and your colleagues handle your situation? Did you have any particular financial problems? If you were bereaved a few years ago how did you gradually come to start a new life? Or is that still impossible to imagine? What advice would you give others in your position? Was there anything that helped you to get through it? How supportive were friends and family? How long did their support last? Do you feel guilty in any way? Anything that matters to you, matters!

Please help by putting your thoughts on the blog or even better e mail jean@nawidows.org.uk, and ask for the questionnaire that sets out some of the questions I’ve raised above – and a few more. Just fill in as much as you feel comfortable with and, of course, nothing will be attributed to you personally.

By sharing our experiences, we will probably help ourselves and we’ll certainly help others… including those men and women who have yet to face what we have already experienced.

I look forward to hearing from you - and thanks.

So Christmas and New Year are behind us….

For the NAW, the end of December and especially January is a very busy period. The phone seems never to stop ringing! The truth is that holiday times can be very lonely  - even sometimes when surrounded by friends and family. This is particularly true for those who are thinking how different it was just twelve months previously.

According to something I heard on the radio this morning, this seasonal emotional turmoil isn’t exclusive to widows. Apparently January 7 is the big day for picking up a pen or a making a phone call to fix up an appointment with a solicitor to arrange a divorce! For some, staying together at Xmas just hasn’t worked out, and the time for separation has arrived!

Of course, those of us who are widows and widowers, who no longer have someone we love beside us, and who wish every second of the day that we could just have them back, even for ten minutes, can’t help reflecting that our situation is so much worse.

I’ve thought a lot about this and at one time would have definitely agreed. Now, I am not so sure. I have divorced friends, and although their experience has certainly been different, I wouldn’t want to minimise their feelings.

Yes there is something uniquely horrible about a relationship cruelly ending, often dramatically – certainly painfully – when neither of you wanted it to happen, when a good and happy life had seemed to stretch in front of you.

But at least in my case, and I feel this more and more as time goes by, the fact is that Mike left me a better woman than he found me! In no small measure through him, I grew into a capable, confident person, I was sure of myself, I enjoyed my warm, loving life. When he died, yes I was devastated but my sense of self worth was, thanks to his love, still there intact …. though it took some time to realise it. I had no sense as do many divorced people of a wasted or disappointed life….

Of course, that may not seem relevant in the early days, and not all widows and widowers have good relationships either – but clearly something of value has kept them together. And those of us who really were part of a happy partnership, though we might wish to turn the clock back, have much to be grateful for…. Many of us know for a fact that, no matter how bad it seems on a dark January evening, there is light at the end of the tunnel….