Moving forward through widowhood can be infinitely harder than it has to be
– as if it isn’t hard enough already – when we discover that we have, or want to have, feelings for a new person.
The guilt that can accompany fresh feelings of love can be debilitating.
Friends and family who support us are are quick to offer the, ‘well, he would want you to be happy.’
Not always helpful.
Those who think you should wait longer, or avoid a new relationship altogether like to spew things like, ‘but he was your one and only, the love of your life.’
Also, not helpful.
My mom asked me, after avoiding the topic for an uncharacteristically long time.
“Do you think you’ll ever date again?”
I kind of shrugged it off with a, “I can’t imagine anyone else ever being able to put up with me.”
Mom, ever the supporter, “There are LOT of people on this planet.”
“Seriously, though, I don’t think so. I think we get one shot at a great love. I don’t think I have the right to ask for more.”
My mom was always my voice of reason, my conscience, and my fiercest ally. I would often ask for her advice and never regretted following it. But on this day, she outdid herself.
“You know. You can… Have more than one….
“When you had your first baby, I remember you saying how you couldn’t believe you could love someone as fully and completely as you did him. No one was more surprised by this than me.”
(Mom was also a bit of a smart-ass.)
“But I remember when you were pregnant with your second. You were so worried that there was no way you’d ever be able to love her the way you loved him.
“And yet, here we are.
“You don’t share the love you have for the first with the second. You’re gifted with a whole new supply of love, your heart expands to hold it all, so that you can love the second as wholly as you do the first.
“What makes you think it’s any different with husbands?”
She passed away a year ago this week. I miss her terribly.
She was right, as always. Such wisdom.
Figured I share it.
In memory of my mom, Barbara Jean Bryson.
1939-2022
Dragonfly You 
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