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Widowed Village connects peers with each other for friendship and sharing. The moderators, administrators, and others involved in running this site are not professionals.

Please don't interpret anything you read here as medical, legal, or otherwise expert advice. Don't disregard any expert's advice or take any action as a result of what you read here.

We're friends, not doctors, financial or legal professionals, and we're not "grief experts." But we are here, and we've been "there."

Lifeafterwidowhood's Blog (4)

My wonderful world of women friends

What would I do without my girlfriends? They have always been very important, and I put considerable effort into keeping lifelong pals along with cultivating new ones as I’ve moved through my adult life.

But at no time have my friends been as vital to my well-being as the last three years. When Tom was diagnosed with brain cancer and our world fell apart, women friends (including my sister, sister in laws and cousins) swooped to help me cope. They…


Added by lifeafterwidowhood on May 10, 2014 at 7:37am — No Comments

Grief leads to a broken heart -- literally

2014 starts, and I’m convinced this year will be better that the last three. I have a nice New Year’s Eve and a more positive, overall feeling about my life moving forward without Tom.

Then the other shoe drops.



Added by lifeafterwidowhood on April 14, 2014 at 11:38am — 4 Comments

Is the second year harder than the first?  (This is my url. I have many entries in chronological order. I started the blog in January 2014.)

About a year after Tom died, I felt a bit of relief from grieving. It was my goal to get through that first year, thinking I'd feel better afterward. Well, I felt the weight of the sadness lift and, shortly after, embarked on a few adventures out of my comfort zone.

Initially, this felt good, and I…


Added by lifeafterwidowhood on April 1, 2014 at 8:31am — 2 Comments

Cry me a river

Before Tom died, I hardly ever cried. Even when he was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, I didn’t cry much. He was crying a lot, and I felt had to be strong and positive, or he would have felt even worse. I tried to offset his crying by not crying. When I did cry, it was in my car, alone, when it was dark.

Now I’m a sap. I cry at the drop of a hat. I can be fine, and suddenly some small occurrence, a memory or song, and conversation will…


Added by lifeafterwidowhood on March 31, 2014 at 11:14am — 2 Comments

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