This site is run by widowed people, for widowed people

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."

my grief is a child

wild and unpredictable

stormy and sweet

whiny with dirty fingernails

and sticky fingers.

I need time away

and yet, I also can not stay


because it needs me

and I am in love.

It is my child-

our child that we made


It is what is left of us

It is full of us

always just around the 


playful and demanding

with wet kisses.

He demands attention

on his timeline

regardless of where I am

or who I am with.

Her pouty lips catch me

off guard

head peeking behind a tree

laughter erupting

down the empty hallway.

My grief is a child

that often keeps me awake

at night.

Rubbing their back 

I whisper that it 

will be ok

that they are loved

that I will be there


And if I listen closely

I can just make out the soft

echo back-

"I love you too".

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Comment by BelovedPeach on August 15, 2017 at 1:48pm
OriRising, that is so beautiful, thank you for sharing, it moved me to tears.

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