My Roses 12th November 2013
Found this article called SECOND TIME AROUND by Marie Claire
ONE MARCH AFTERNOON IN 2010, I logged on to Facebook and glanced at my relationship status. My 42-year-old husband, Frank, had been dead for a month, but it still said "Married." Then, in a surreal, only-in-the-21st-century moment, I changed it to "Widowed." I hesitated, but I had to do it: No word but widow described what I was. Single said too little. I noticed the other options: It's complicated. Well, yes (what loss is uncomplicated?) and no: Death leaves you with zero options. Separated. I was that, too, but more drastic and sadder than the word usually suggests. Some hope that separation from their spouses might be temporary; mine could be nothing but permanent.
So, at age 39, after seven years of marriage, I was no longer married; I was a widow. And this, the only appropriate designation, felt hard-earned. Frank's sickness and death belonged to him, but they had changed my life, too, making demands and requiring sacrifices. The path that led me from wife to widow had been long, crooked, and painful. I had spent the previous two years watching my husband fight, with grace and heartbreaking optimism, a rare and aggressive form of esophageal cancer. When his cancer briefly disappeared, I rejoiced with him; when it reappeared, we despaired together. I rode beside him in ambulances to emergency rooms late at night. I asked questions in oncologists' offices and took notes. I cried on the phone to impassive health insurance bureaucrats. And one morning, when I left the hospice to feed our cats and make some calls, Frank died. A chaplain led me by the hand to her office, and I sank to the floor, crying, deeply sad--and guilt-ridden--that I had not been with him at the very end.
Although I decided to wear my wedding ring for a year after his death (as a respectful gesture to Frank and to keep unwanted male attention at bay), six months in, I felt ready to date. I had started to miss companionship, the everyday pleasures of having a man in my life. Yet when I started dating, widowhood became the woolly mammoth in the room--guys would try to avoid the subject completely. The first man I dated after Frank, a sports fanatic from Brooklyn whom I saw for two months, would tense his jaw and say, "I'm sorry," before changing the subject to football. "I'm sorry" is not an unreasonable response. But I felt sorry enough for myself; after a point, I could hardly bear having anyone else feel sorry for me. Other men, once they learned of my history, avoided me altogether. As soon as I'd get comfortable enough with them to talk about it, usually after a few dates, they'd pull away--no more e-mails or calls. One date was texting me regularly to make plans and tell me jokes, only to downgrade his correspondence to Facebook the more he learned about my past, then fade out completely. He never conveyed the reason he bailed, but it was clear he wanted someone breezy and uncomplicated. As a widow, I was anything but. In hindsight, I admit that wearing my wedding ring and discussing Frankmay have signalled that I wasn't ready to move on. But I felt torn between feeling very attached to his memory and also taking tentative steps toward a future without him.
Continued on this link : http://www.marieclaire.com/sex-love/relationship--issues/dating-aft...
Other articles on websites Understanding and dealing with lack of companionship and looking for marriage. Dating and marriage after loss what you or your new partner might be experiencing - which hav some useful Insights Link : http://www.idotaketwo.com/experts/topic/469-remarriage-after-spouse...
In his March 2012 article for "Psychology Today," emotions expert Professor Aaron Ben-Zeév, cautions widows and widowers that as a survivor, your love did not die with the spouse. In fact, you may have idealized your relationship following the loss. Given this information, you must integrate the idea that it is possible to love your dead spouse and to enter into a fulfilling relationship with a new person. Psychologically, a new relationship may fill a void physically, but you must be prepared to love two people at the same time -- a dynamic that is unique to widows and widowers.
My Roses comment Re this last sentence which is very interesting. Maybe this would help widowed people feel less stressed, guilty, and confused to know that one can love two people but presumably in different ways and dimensions (one of them is in heaven!)!!! Ultimately, it is about bringing peace and happiness.