Sharing news - good or bad - tougher when you're widowed

There are a plethora of things I miss about My Favourite Husband (MFH). I miss his humour, his intelligence. I miss the fact that he was 6 ft. 1 in. and could reach everything on every shelf. I miss the way he would find things he’d think I like — a Netflix comedy, a podcast, an activity — and introduce me to it. Almost always he would go out of his way to make something I’d like to try happen. Zipping along the shoreline in a dune buggy. Going to a drive-in theatre (in California, no less). He was a good man. Not a perfect man but a good man.

One of my favourite things about him was sharing news. Good or bad. He was always ready with a hug, a kiss and a shoulder. One of the best things about a relationship is having someone with whom to celebrate and commiserate. Walking into the house and knowing we both had someone who was or would be home where we could talk and share in person. 

Now that I’m on my own, sharing is trickier. It means a phone call or a text message. It means not having someone available, in person, to jump for joy with. Or to cry with. I don’t have that person. I have many people but I have no one. 

It’s now celebrating on my own and mourning on my own and then selecting someone — or multiple someones — with whom to share. It’s about timing and it’s effort. 

Do I share in a group message? On social media? Am I sharing it all or parcelling out slips of information? Do my close friends want to or need to hear everything or just some things?

And, as my life changes, I’m finding that some relationships I have with different friends are changing. As a result, I find myself withholding things. Out of spite? No. But based on reactions and experiences that shape what we have now. 

Confusing? Try being me! 

Celebrating the beautiful, joyful moments in life is easier but still requires navigating because it means sharing with someone outside of my home. It means choosing the right person or people who know what this moment means to me, why it’s happening and what it took to get here. Picking the right people for happy moments can be as tricky as picking the right people for troubled waters. Ultimately, I want to share with people who understand the importance of the news. People who are connected to my journey. 

I had a written conversation with a friend the other day. There was a comment made about seeing each other in the future. I (half-jokingly) replied “at my funeral” and the reply was “before that, unless there was something terrible you need to share right now." There is not. 

What that exchange did get me thinking about, though, was sharing unfortunate news. If I did have something happening, what would I share and who would I share it with?

And that’s a dilemma when you’re on your own. When MFH died, I shared his passing personally with my immediate family and closest friends. After that, I let the grapevine carry the message. But his death was not a secret and sharing granted me a community of support. It also allowed others to mourn and remember. 

But if I was suffering from a debilitating or terminal illness, I’m not sure I’d share so readily. I would absolutely hate the thought of people who chose not to connect with me now wanting to rush to my bedside or offer to assist in any way possible. I’m not interested in a deathbed reconciliation or wanting to grant absolution to assuage someone’s guilt. My guess is that I’d want to keep my condition quiet from most people and keep life going as is. 

Even if I had news that was less serious in nature, I think I’d still share selectively. If I’m going to have to make an effort to share, I’ll make the effort all the way by sharing with the right people.

As time has passed and I’m writing this chapter in my life, I’m finding a deep appreciation for the now and I pine less for the then. But one thing I think I will always miss is the magic that comes from having a partner to share all the moments of life with.