Being a Widow

I stumbled upon a blog whose author was a lady in her 50s. She lost her husband to cancer in the beginning of last year. 

The blog was a means by which she updated the journey to the end with her husband.

She blogged about how deeply grieved she felt, yet knowing that her husband was finally relieved of his fallible body of agony and pain, her profound faith she dearly held onto compelled her to take great joy that he finally joined his Saviour whom he so loved.

After ten months of being a widow and single parent, she revealed how she felt: exhausted because she had to do everything herself. Nobody would pick up the thing that was dropped on the floor if she didn't. Nobody except her had to cut the grass. Nobody would pick up the laundry if she didn't do it. She also felt lonely because there was no one to share her joy and sorrow with anymore. 

She missed her husband deeply, a sentiment I will never have the opportunity to appreciate.

As I read about her inner world, it dawned on me that I have been living like that all my life: exhausted and lonely.

I thought about if I would miss William if he ever dies. The answer is no.

I finally understand why people miss their spouse. Their spouse would have contributed a significant part of themselves to their lives. Be it physical help, money or emotional support. But I don't have these from William. If he ever dies, life will be as per normal for me. In fact, perhaps, life will be better for me. I won't have someone make my day bad at 1am, 5am or 6am. I don't have to wait for someone to have dinner at 10pm. I have less clothes to wash, to dry, to fold. I don't have to worry that the kids will see their parents fighting ever again. I don't have to lead a single mother lifestyle while legally married.

I will be freed from my shackles. Actually.

I probably won't shed a tear for him. Because there's no loss!

Perhaps I have all along been a widow, a spiritual widow, the moment I married him.

Don't assume that I am writing this sad. It's purely a matter of fact to me and I am writing it as it is. That's all. I no longer feel sorry for myself. I know it's my choice to remain imprisoned in this 'marriage' - if you want a name for it. 

I have been watching this Korean drama 'First Wives Club'《大老婆的反击》at 12am, Channel 8, on weekdays.

For some reason, I felt a sense of connection with the betrayed wives in the drama.

They all have unfaithful husbands who cheated on them and most of them divorce the losers, but the protagonist had to make up lies to convince her unfaithful husband to sign the papers, thinking that it was merely a fake divorce. Before she did that, she also cheated him of all his money for a bitter-sweet revenge.

She confided in her best pal, who was incidentally her husband's younger sister, that she hated her husband to death, so much so that she wished that he would be knocked down by a car and get killed. There were times she felt that perhaps she should resign to her fate and continue with her miserable life, putting up with a loser husband, but she was already 40, and did not know how long more she had on Earth. She hoped to be able to live for herself, and live it out. 

As I listened to that, it was like an exact reflection of how I feel, all the time. 

If you think I had kept these feelings to myself, I assure you I had not. William was there when the Korean drama was aired. I told him,"Look, this is how I feel!" 

He smiled sheepishly.

I also told him about the lady blogger and how she missed her late husband, and told him I will not miss him at all since he has never been much help to me.

He also smiled sheepishly.

You can't fight the truth.