I have noticed since becoming a widow, there are 'tag' words and phrases that society, and the community use to describe the events that follow a profound loss. You may know im talking about, one I want to talk about today is the year of 'firsts.' This term describes that first year following the death of a loved one, in my case it so happens to be Drew, so I'll be writing from that perspective, however this can apply to the loss of a parent, sibling, child even a beloved animal- because yes, in my house pets are the best- and if any of you have met my tiny terror toy poodle then you know where my stance on this comes from.
Any profound loss will have a year of firsts, the first birthday, holiday, family occasion, each event just as painful as the one before. The uniqueness about losing a spouse is the year of firsts doesnt necessarily stop at the obvious celebratory events. For myself, this included doing things that most people don't think twice about. The thing I think is important to mention for both widows and support people is the firsts are not just limited to the obvious. I'm going to call these the 'silent firsts.' These are the things you do, or encounter that may not be obvious to the public, or even your closest people. These silent firsts can be as simple as the first time you take the garbage out after your husband dies, or in my case, the first time I had to make dinner for myself lol (Drew spoiled me!), or the first time I slept in my bed without Drew. Honestly it can be anything your partner did around the house, or something you always did together and your doing it alone for the first time. My reasoning for pointing this out is that I want my fellow widows to feel seen, and know that there is no framework or instructions telling you what is going to hurt, and when. Drew and I were both shift workers for a long period of our time together, that meant holidays, anniversaries and societal norms around celebrating did not apply to us. We worked many holidays, and missed many events, and that was okay. We have supportive family and friends who are flexible with plans and always made us feel included with phone calls, groups chats and photos on those long night shifts when we would rather have been at home drinking rum and eggnog and laughing- ahh, the life of a first responder! So while the holidays, anniversaries and occasions still hurt tremendously, the little things ive had to do on my own hurt me even more. Hindsight is always 20/20 and I think if i could make a suggestion to my fellow widows, it would be to let yourself feel when you need to and react to these firsts how you need too. You may not even realize something is going to affect you until you start, because for the first year after a profound loss, almost anything could be a 'first,' and the key to taking the label off of these actions, is to acknowledge and lean into them so the next time doesnt maybe feel quite as painful. Drew always cut the grass at our house, we had a love hate relationship with the lawn mower. He would spend more time tinkering around 'fixing' it, then how long it took to actually cut the grass. The lawnmower wouldnt start half the time and he always had a little trick, and it would roar to life, Drew would laugh with an almost shocked look on his face, like wow, I can't believe that actually worked haha. Like any normal homeowner expectation, I cut the grass after Drew died, little did I know this would have such a lasting impact on me. So many feelings washed over me. I was mad, frusturated, laughing and crying all at the same time. How could such a simple, mundane responsibility cause such an intense reaction. It was because this was the first time, and grief shows up whenever and however it wants. Giving myself space to acknowledge this was a 'silent first' was important. It didnt fall in the standard category of what society had coined 'the year of firsts' but it was one of my firsts. Every widows journey and story are unique and while we can give eachother advice and a 'heads up' on what we can expect, you will encounter the unexpected, and you will encounter your own 'silent firsts.' I was able to come up with a strategy for the next time I encountered a 'silent first.' If I was doing something that caused an immense amount of pain and deep emotions, I would pause, and set a timer. I gave myself 5 minutes to scream, cry, or do whatever my mind and body needed to do, to deal with the 'silent first.' When the timer went off, that was my cue, it was time to move forward, and get the job done. Some may find this to be a negative intervention, suggesting that im suppressing the emotions, or not letting myself feel. This is what works for me and it may not work for you, and that is okay. My year one was focused on 'surviving' and this is what I did to survive. I hope this may be helpful for some and can be applied to any situation where grief bubbles up unexpectedly. I still do this very regularly, because in reality the show must go on.
To our support systems (thats you, the friends and familiy!) I encourage you to check in with your people who are widows, or who are suffering a pround loss, because it may be the times when everything is quiet in the first year where your support is needed the most. The birthdays and Christmases and anniversaries will be hard for your widow friends, but the day they have to go grocery shopping by themselves may actually be just as, or more painful. I have the most amazing friends and family, they know the relationship Drew and I had and they are so observant to my needs, in the first year and still to this day as the world keeps turning and everyone keeps moving forward, my crew still takes the time to check in with text messages and kind words. For that I want to say a big thank you to everyone in my corner. You are with me on the obvious days where i'm grieving, but your also with me on the quiet days, after 'the year of firsts' when my grief is sometimes perceived as more internal, and isolated.
The biggest message I hope people can take away from this is that the first year can look completely different for everyone, and its okay if you do not fall into the standards of what society has coined as the normal way to grieve.
all my love,
Riley
xo