I’m a Widow

February 11, 2019

Listen to this piece on KQED Perspectives.

I have two identical black cats now. Michi and Kikiboo. One of them, I’m not sure which, bounds across the kitchen and I think, how did I end up with two? But as a new widow, I have a motto. I’m a widow. So I can do whatever I want. It suits me well. I’ll open a bottle of wine at 3pm. And buy myself some stylie new boots without looking at the price tag. And I can adopt as many cats as I want.

At age 38, with a toddler and two lovely teenage stepdaughters, I didn’t expect to become a widow. And honestly it feels more like I’m an alien who just landed on this strange planet, than anything else. I also didn’t expect to lose my father to brain cancer. Sit by his side as his body and mind withered away. Sit by his side as he shared with me his plans for a trip to Antarctica, among other other-worldly things. And hold his hand, baby Juniper strapped to my chest, as he left on that final expedition. And I certainly didn’t expect the eerily similar decline of my husband, the love of my life, to cancer, 7 months later, our baby daughter soundly asleep next to him as he took his final breath and transitioned to his next life.

So on this strange new planet, in this new life of mine, the life after my father and after my husband, the life after my step daughters moved in with their mom, leaving empty bedrooms and dressers full of clothes, I’ve been learning about grief. And it isn’t easy. Even an alien could tell you that. Grief, according to Jamie Anderson, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief, she says, is just love with no place to go.

A few weeks ago I awoke to my husband’s cat Cid dragging his back half across the floor. He could no longer walk, and I knew instantly Juniper and I were back at that goodbye place again. One more earthly vessel for our love leaving for another plane of reality, another planet maybe, moving across town or maybe to Antarctica, but certainly never coming back. And where would our love go now? Michi and Kikiboo, that’s where. I’m a widow and I’ll adopt as many cats as I want.