13 July, 2026

Childless, and now, Single

My husband died late last month. It still seems unbelievable to write it, let alone say it or live it. In the end, things happened quite quickly. We spent a (largely) peaceful week or so in the local hospice, with (mostly) wonderful staff and volunteers, and space for family and friends to visit, and a nice view across a valley, much like life here at home. I was able to stay with him the entire time, which was a comfort to us both.  

My sister and brother-in-law, who had stayed with me just a week or so earlier when he was in hospital, and had fed me and supported me and chauffeured me when I was exhausted, jumped in their car on very short notice to drive seven hours to be here to support me. They were amazing, took over everything, made the hard phone calls, organised the small gathering we had to honour him, and helped organise people too. Other family were here, and after they all went home about 12 days later, friends have been checking in on me. I have been lucky to have that support. 

But having so many people around so intensely was at times overwhelming. I felt I had no time to grieve. But maybe that's why we do it that way. The brain and heart has to catch up with reality. And now that I'm alone, I can mourn freely, whenever the moment hits me, knowing that I can also be strong around others.  

One thing that has surprised me is that receiving messages, texts, emails, whatsapps etc, having actual conversations chatting about anything, makes me feel much less alone. They are real connections, and very important. Physical presence hasn't been essential every day, if I've been chatting to my sister-in-law in Australia, or my friend in Thailand, or my sister in the north. Messages are also much easier to respond to, when I weep at the drop of a hat. (When writing this, for example.) Responding to heartfelt messages takes a toll though, so I am doing that very slowly.

Thanks to neighbours and wonderful blogging friends, my freezer is almost overflowing with food. Cooking is not so much the problem. Going out to the supermarket is. I went once, and was surprised how hard it was - walking past his favourites, picking up only enough for me, answering questions at the checkout. So knowing there are ready-made meals waiting for me is a great relief. I am extremely thankful for their support. 

I have a long list of things I need to do. Some of it feels overwhelming. Some of it is routine. But it is all hard, though I'm trying to force myself to get at least one thing done each day. I'm not sure how soon or how often I will be able to write here again. I might need the outlet, I might need privacy. 

We were together since our university days. We grew up together.  We shared everything. Together we learned and explored - ideas, activities, and the world - in ways that we might not have done apart. I am who I am because of him. But now I have to learn to be alone. 

 

5 comments:

  1. So glad to see you post here. Glad you've had surrounding support to get through these early days. The Gemini in me has been torn. "Reach out to Mali again to see how she's coping" followed closely by "no, stand back and provide Mali the room and space she likely needs." Just know you've been front and center and accompanying me as I move through my day wishing the distance was not so vast. I can well imagine how the little moments like grocery shopping can be fraught with reminders. I hope it brings some comfort to know that he remains part of you -- how can he not as he's helped nurture the strong and wonderful person you are today xx

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  2. I'm so glad you have been feeling well supported and not so alone, as you navigate this new situation you find yourself in. Like PJ, I've been torn between wanting to reach out and wanting to give you privacy... but you have been constantly in my thoughts. Much love to you, dear friend. ❤

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  3. I've been thinking about you. I'm glad you were surrounded by love. Thank you for your post. It is so well written. It has so much clarity. I am in awe. I'm sure you hurt. I also know you have a deep well of strength and wisdom. I am sorry for your loss and for all of the losses that come with it. May your loving memories bring you comfort. I'll be thinking of you. Write if you want. Don't write if you don't feel like it. But you already know that. <3

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  4. It really resonated, what you said about the brain and heart not quite able to keep up with reality. Deep grief really does rewire your brain and is so disorienting. Time itself becomes so slippery.

    I am so glad you are feeling supported and loved during this impossibly difficut time. Much love 💜

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  5. Thank you for writing. Have been thinking about you both and sending caring. Glad and not surprised that that you had such wonderful support.
    learning about being single is a long process and grief will rise up unexpectedly throughout the process always part of you. But you know about that. You are deeply cared about.

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