She called shortly after my column appeared. It was mid-March, 2018.
Gary had passed away, and I answered the phone unaware of who was on the other end. We exchanged greetings, then she said, “Well, I guess you’ve joined our club.” I had no clue what she was referring to until she added, “But I’m guessing you never wanted to be a part of this one.”
She was right. It was an unofficial membership, yet all-too real: The Widows Club. We talked for a bit, though truth be told, it was probably me who talked the most. I couldn’t seem to stop.
Those of you who have lost a spouse can relate. Many of us have lots of attention at first, then everyone goes back to their own lives and – don’t act surprised here – some folks never come back. That probably shocked me the most, simply because it doesn’t make sense. You’re not worth any less as a person simply because there’s only one of you now.
But this lady- and trust me, she is a lady- knew what to do. She had been a widow for a few years, yet she knew. She just knew. Before I knew it, she was dropping off a book titled, “A Widow’s Journey- Reflections on Walking Alone,” by Gayle Roper. But that wasn’t all she dropped off. There was money inside the book, along with a bag with some chocolate, and a few other food items. I sat there looking at it all and bawled my eyes out. The kindness of strangers will do it every time.
She warned me to read the book in small doses. It was already one of the smallest books I’ve ever seen, and I couldn’t imagine not finishing it in one sitting. Then, after the first page, I understood. My new friend was right. I felt the breath sucked out of me as I read words that precisely described the condition of my heart at that moment. No wonder this sweet lady was giving these books to new widows.
As time went on, my newest friend delivered food on a weekly basis. She did this for a couple of years, then she was gone. No, not like that. She just went on with her life and is likely blessing others with her generosity. She taught me how to reach out, even in our own grief, to help others.
I’ll never forget her. The widow who reached out to me on that cold March day brought a warmth with her that I never would have known had I not been in “that place.” Grief. Sooner or later, it will bring us together, and it can be a beautiful thing.
