Is A Widower "A Good Catch"?

As the wife of a former widower, I feel very blessed to be married to a man who knows how to make a marriage work. After all, he has a proven record of commitment. Wives of widowers (or WOWs, as I call them) are also fortunate in another respect: they are married to men who can love with all their hearts because these men know, from experience, that there IS a beautiful rainbow after every dark storm.

A widower is a man who has learned the hard way to embrace life, appreciate all it offers, and live it to the fullest, since he knows life can be short and time is fleeting. In his mind, he had the best marriage once, and he won’t settle for anything less the second time around, either! WOWs should consider themselves complimented!

I am often asked if part of my romantic interest in or attraction to my husband was related to his marital status. Perhaps it did—indirectly. It caused me to be more empathetic early in our relationship, which encouraged our budding friendship to blossom into love. But more often than not, the hidden meaning behind the question is, did I feel that I had something to gain, emotionally speaking, from his being a widower? Yes, and here’s why: My husband’s late wife died of cancer a year after her diagnosis. For a good part of the year prior to her eventual and inevitable death, he was her caretaker. Hollywood enjoys romanticizing this supreme sacrifice by portraying the selfless widower-to-be in movies as his dying spouse’s hero. His nurturing her until her last breath in his arms is both moving and touching, epic in its surrealism and in the emotional payoff at the box office. In reality, my husband did what he felt was appropriate and right as his wife’s husband. He took his “for better or worse, in sickness and in health” marriage vows very seriously. In short, he did what needed to be done, one day at a time, out of love and not to be a hero.

A widower who was his late wife’s caretaker is more often than not a man who has seen the ugly side of life, and still finds life beautiful. He knows what inner strength is all about, has had his resolved tested, and has passed with flying colors. He stands as a true symbol of commitment, for he is honorable in having respected the meaning of the word. He knows there is no obstacle that love and faith cannot overcome, as he makes his way through the valley of the shadow of death and into the light of bereavement recovery.

I believe because my husband lost a wife prior to marrying me, he was changed by the whole experience in many distinct ways. He has learned to be more sacrificing, more appreciative of what he has, and definitely more caring and less selfish. He is also more acutely sensitive to his family’s needs, and has a more profound sense of what “family” is really all about. The experience of loss has taught him that life cannot be taken for granted.

Had he not endured this great loss, perhaps he would be much less introspective, less empathic, less tender, and much more limited in every direction of his emotional spectrum. But now, he has this unbelievably mature perspective that life is all about change, and change equals growth. It’s an ironic truth in life that growth and love come from great pain and tragedy. In other words, how do we define “sweet” if we have never tasted “sour”? Who better than a widower to model this?

Perhaps I would not have been attracted to my husband as the person he was before his late wife passed away, considering how much he HAS grown and changed because of the loss. Those changes are beneficial to both the widower and his second wife because they are what build character traits that help us evolve into two people who are perfect for each other. If the old adage “All things, good and bad, happen for a reason” is true, then perhaps in order for him to be the perfect match for me, he first had to evolve into the man I fell in love with. To do that, he had to go through all the life experiences - the good, the bad, and the ugly - that made him who he is today.

People sometimes ask me, “Would you date a widower again, knowing what you know now about being a WOW?” I always respond positively. Our marriage is not defined by his loss and occasional bouts of sadness relating to grief any more than it is defined by my occasional bouts of feeling that second wife equals second best. We are simply a married couple, comprised of two individuals with unique life experiences. A widower is a good catch for any woman who understands that life is about enjoying the reality of the present and the dreams of the future while not allowing the past to interfere with either.

~~Copyright 2009 Julie Donner Andersen. All rights reserved. Reprints and excerpts only with prior written permission of author.

Why Are We Afraid To Ask "The Tough Questions" Of Our Widowers?

After my book was released, I was deluged with letters from wives of widowers, wondering how I found the courage to ask my previously widowed husband about his late wife and their marriage. While I appreciate being thought of as courageous, asking “the tough questions” was more a matter of necessity than bravery for me…and for our marriage.

I have always felt that the greatest fear of all is the fear of the unknown. When left to our own devices, our imaginations can work overtime, wreaking havoc on our insecurities and vulnerabilities. When we privately wonder about things that concern our happiness and mental well being, we tend to lean towards the negative, assuming that the tough questions, if asked aloud, will be met with answers we are not ready to hear…or that will be the opposite of what we hope to hear.

Surprisingly, that’s usually never the case. Information, like education, allows us to calm our fears, put them into perspective, and in most cases, brings peace and relief to a worried soul. Even the painful answers to the tough questions can at least be digested with time. Truth has a way of winning out over the worst of fears.

So what are we so afraid of?

We are afraid that our questions will be perceived as nosy, insensitive, none of our business, or regarded as insignificant by the person we are asking. We fear being judged for appearing needy. We fear the perceived and/or anticipated fight that may ensue as a result of hurt feelings. And worst of all, we fear that the answers will be too shocking or painful to endure.

However, husbands and wives communicate with each other the most intimate, secret, personal things that two people can utter to one another. By doing this, their relationships deepen and their marital bonds are strengthened. Being privy to another’s deepest thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and opinions is an honor. It means that the person sharing this vital information trusts the receiver implicitly, and is assured that the listener will not judge nor hold said information against him or her.

Trust is a two way street. Respecting the answers to tough questions is just as important as being respected for asking the questions. To be trusted, one must be trustworthy. Wives of widowers must first decide if they are capable of handling whatever their husbands respond, whether the answers leave them feeling good or not. They must also decide, before posing the questions, whether the answers will help them overcome fears, issues, and insecurities, thus leading to a stronger relationship.

Case in point: When my husband I were planning our first Christmas together as a married couple, I wondered to myself why I should try so hard to make it nice for us if his grief would only make for a miserable holiday. I wanted cookie cutter perfection for my holiday, complete with Martha Stewart-ish dinners, parties, and decorations…without the interference of “The Grief Monster” or “The Ghost of Christmas Past”. But it was painfully obvious to me, even though he spoke nary a word about it, that my husband grieved his late wife’s loss at this special time of year, just as he did in the past when we were dating. The act of marrying me did not make his grief miraculously disappear.

I had a choice: Either I could muddle through and pretend for both of us to have a good time (but fooling nobody!), or I could gently confront my husband and ask the tough questions about how he would like to proceed with the holiday festivities in respect to his grief.

Brave, yes, but necessary. I needed to discuss my husband's feelings with him so I could make plans based on them. I needed to know his answers so I could be as much of a helpmate to him as I could be through this sentimental time of grief. As well, his answers would also provide me with insight into his grief journey, enabling me to gauge where he was at and if healing was rooting or not. That way, I could prepare my own heart for whatever was to come.

I trusted my husband not to judge me for asking, and he trusted me with his revelations about Christmases shared with his late wife, and how he missed certain traditions of old. Because of our little discussion, we were able to form a united front in the face of grief, incorporate old traditions with new, and enjoy the present holiday and each other.

But are some questions too sacred…too personal…too scary to ask a spouse? In respect to present wives asking tough questions to previously widowed husbands, the answer, in my opinion, is a resounding “No!” Keeping secrets, for whatever personal reasons, is not a healthy thing for anyone to do to a sacred blend of two souls into one, which is what marriage is all about: one soul, one mind, one love...and a willingness to share everything about one’s self with your soul mate.

If you are a wife of a widower, you must first be aware of your reasons behind your questions. Do you want to know about your husband’s sex life with his late wife? First, ask yourself why. Would his answers be beneficial to making your own sex life more interesting and enjoyable? Or is this a “loaded” question – the answer to which will only serve as justification of your insecurities and plunge you deeper into your own self-serving pity party?

The answers to the tough questions are like constructive criticisms – you may not like what you hear, but with a heart full of grace and respect for the one who delivers the answers, you can easily find a positive way to utilize the information...as long as you take “self” out of the equation, and just concentrate on Loving A Widower.


~~Copyright 2009 Julie Donner Andersen. No reprints without express permission from author.