What People Don't Understand About Widowhood (part 1)

Do You Ever Stop Being a Widow?

Why widowhood remains part of my story nearly 17 years later

This post is the first in a series called What People Don't Understand About Widowhood, where I'll be sharing some of the realities of grief, healing, faith, and rebuilding life after loss that people often don't see.

One of the questions people don't ask out loud, but often seem to wonder, is this:

At some point, do you stop being a widow?

After all, it's been nearly 17 years since Jon passed away.

My children are grown.

One has graduated from college, and the other is entering his senior year.

I've rebuilt a life I never expected to have.

And I've been happily remarried to Heath for nearly 10 years.

From the outside, it might seem like widowhood belongs in my past.

But the answer is no.

I am still a widow.

And I am also a wife.

Both things are true.

When Jon died, widowhood felt like the only thing I could see. Everything in my life was divided into "before" and "after."

Before cancer.

Before loss.

Before becoming a single mom.

Before carrying responsibilities I never expected to carry alone.

Then suddenly there was the after.

After the funeral.

After the meals stopped arriving.

After everyone else returned to their normal lives.

Widowhood wasn't just something that happened to me. It became part of my identity. Not my entire identity. But a piece of my story that would always remain.

I think many people assume grief has an ending point. That eventually enough time passes and you somehow graduate from widowhood.

But that's not how it works.

I don't wake up every day overwhelmed by grief the way I was in those early years.

I don't spend my days stuck in sadness.

Life is full.

There is joy.

There is purpose.

There is laughter.

There is deep gratitude for the life God has given me.

And yet, there are still moments when I wish I could tell Jon something.

When one of the kids reaches a milestone.

When I remember a funny story.

When something happens and my first instinct is still to think, "I need to tell Jon about this."

Those moments are less frequent now, but they still happen.

Not because I'm stuck.

Not because I haven't healed.

But because love doesn't simply disappear when someone dies. The relationship changes, but the love remains.

One of the greatest gifts God has given me is Heath. Our marriage is a blessing that I am deeply grateful for. Loving Heath did not erase my love for Jon. It didn't erase the years we spent together. It didn't erase the life we built or the loss I experienced. For a while, I thought those two realities might somehow compete with each other.

Instead, I've discovered they can peacefully coexist.

I can fully love my husband today while still honoring the husband I lost.

I can be thankful for where I am without pretending I never walked through heartbreak.

Both things can be true.

Psalm 34:18 says,

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

I have found that verse to be true over and over again. Not just in the early days of grief, but throughout the years that followed. God has been faithful through every season.

He was faithful when I was newly widowed.

He was faithful as a single mom.

He was faithful as I rebuilt my life.

And He remains faithful today.

If you're a widow reading this, whether it's been six months or sixteen years, I want you to know that there is no timeline for when widowhood stops being part of your story.

Your grief may change.

Your life may grow.

Your heart may heal.

But the love you shared matters.

And it will always be part of who you are.

If you have been feeling a off lately — low energy, brain fog, constant cravings, or just feeling depleted — I’d love to invite you to join me for a simple two-week reset. We’ll focus on simple daily rhythms that support your body and restore steady energy. Nothing extreme, just simple habits practiced consistently. If that sounds like something you need right now, I’d love to have you join us.

You can reach out to me in the comments, or by sending me a message on Facebook or Instagram.