Grief: Who Am I Since My Husband Died?

I woke up the other morning thinking that anyone who meet me knows within five minutes that I have a dead husband.  I define myself first and always as the Widow Warner, Jan without Artie, the woman who is grieving.  That's not untrue.  I am that.  However, there are many other ways I can define myself.

I am a mother, and a grandmother.  I am lucky in my friends because I am a good friend. It is important to me to help other people. I have a snarky sense of humor.  I am creative.  I am lazy.  I write, I read.  I have people who consult me when they are making a documentary.  I love theater.  I have started reading and traveling again.  I am opinionated.  That technique I have mentioned before - and who else am I?  I could continue asking myself that question and come up with many more answers.

Why is what I have lost, my sadness and my loneliness, always put front and center? I know that it is partly because I write this blog and I always want to be available to other grieving people.

On the other hand, what would happen if only for a week, I didn't always talk about Artie.  What would happen if I met someone and just said, "Hi, I'm Jan."

In some ways I might feel cut off from my real self.  I know too many people who are afraid to talk about those they love who have died.  They are afraid people will roll their eyes and tell them to accept it and move on.  I want to keep educating people about what grief is - that it may shift but true grief doesn't end.  My goal is never to get over my grief - merely to spend more time being productive - more time showing up - more time learning how to have happy moments.

What is my real self?  Maybe it is made up of many parts.  Maybe the grieving part can sometimes not be first in line.  Maybe the other parts of me want a chance to be up front.  If I go a day without mentioning Artie I don't need to feel guilty.  He knows how much I love him.  He might ask for some attention.  I can stop and give it to him.

I don't have a nice clean end to this post.  I am pondering what it means to be Jan without Artie.  That's not right.  I am never Jan without Artie.  I am pondering what it means to let Jan with Artie be someone who doesn't say "My husband died almost 4 years ago." at the beginning of every conversation.  A lot of the time while Artie was alive I went out and did things without him.  Maybe I can do the same ting now that he is dead.  It's a little scary.

It's always a little scary waking up without being able to cuddle with him in the morning.  It's always lonely coming home and not having him there to share things with in a physical way - so that I can hear his voice, look into his eyes, see his smile.

I do it though.  Every day.

How do I define myself now that my husband is dead?  Still working on that one.  xo