Black Widow Chronicles

Supermarket shopping: the sixth stage of grief

In the 21 months I have been without Bronnie, I may or may not have suffered the ‘stages of grief’. Certainly, not as usually prescribed if I have, indeed, gone through:

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

Although I do recognise the Anger stage. This happened at a family function where I wanted to stab a man for having the audacity to ask me to dance at a dinner dance. Dinner was fine, I could do the dinner bit, but the dancing part felt odd without Bronnie mashing my feet into the ground every third rotation. Bronnie was the sort of dancer who listened intently for the beat and then did everything in his power to go the other way and avoid it. He and rhythm were not kissing cousins; indeed Most of the time they weren’t even on speaking terms. I miss that.

...continue reading

Black Widow Chronicles

Widows can laugh

No-one sets out to deliberately irritate the bereaved but it happens and continues to happen through a conspiracy of silence.

Something I know for sure is that no-one gets it right all the time. Not the bereaved nor those observing or living with the bereaved. It is a situation where there are no clear-cut guidelines or DeBrett Rules of Etiquette. I cringe when I recall some of the things I have said and done (or not said or not done) to a widow or widower which, while not mal-intentioned, took little account of the person standing in front of me. The real person standing in front of me.

...continue reading

Black Widow Chronicles

A year on

Bronson Hart Fargo Jr. 11 June 1957 - 15 January 2010

Before it happens we think we know what it means to lose someone. I am not talking about a distant name that you grow up hearing; or a long lost relative; or even a friendly acquaintance. I am talking about the kind of loss where the person was woven into the start of your real history, your present and your future and is then brutally relegated to your past. The person who made you love you.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of such a loss for me, my children, my family – our friends.

What you also cannot know until it happens is that the concept of time becomes meaningless. This post is entitled “A Year On” deliberately to remind me that a year has passed. In reality, it feels like a few months since my life changed irretrievably, and I still have this unexplainable feeling that if I just shut my eyes or just be still for a moment I can go back and make everything the way it was. Go back and get my husband to tell him about this awful thing that happened.

...continue reading