Why I Wrote a Book about Finding Humor, Hope and Happiness After Your Partner Has Died

Recently, on a website titled, “Twenty-Three Funny Tombstones that Actually Exist,” I found a picture of a tombstone that says, “Now I know something you don’t.”

     Here’s something I do know: Even in the depths of pain, it feels better to laugh than to cry.

     After my husband Tim passed away in 2018 (and presumably now knows something I don’t), I read many books with the purpose of finding help for managing my grief. Alas, I found much of the grief literature to be depressing, and of no help to me. I was already sad enough. Selfish or not, I didn’t want to read about somebody else’s sorrow. I just wanted to figure out how to manage my own.

    So, I took the educator’s perspective on things. I decided to learn. I began reading books and other resources about humor. What I discovered was something I had suspected for a long time --- humor will get you through almost anything. Laughter is powerful, even in the darkest of times. But I also discovered that I had to be proactive about it. I had to look for reasons to laugh and reasons to be positive, even while not denying my grief. (Believe it or not, funny stuff doesn’t always just happen to you when you’re coping with the death of your partner --- sometimes you have to go find it.)

    George Bonano, in The Other Side of Sadness, tells us about some research that he and Dacher Kelter did on the mental health of widows and widowers. Their study indicated that “the more widows and widowers laughed and smiled during the early months after their spouse’s death, the better their mental health was over the first two years of bereavement. In other words, people who showed genuine smiling or laughter when they talked about their loss coped better over time” (p. 58). 

    After Tim died, almost everything felt raw and new, and lots of things happened that made me want to cry. For example: 

  • Very well-meaning and genuinely kind people said some pretty dumb things at the funeral. In fact, one young man asked me who I was and why I was there.

  • I went back to work after about a week. Every day, I felt the need to hide from a co-worker who appeared in my office frequently, saying, “Ok, tell me how you really feel. You need to talk about it.” All I wanted to do was work.

  • Laundry didn’t get done on its own now that Tim was gone, so I had to do it myself. (You guessed it --- Tim did all our laundry.)

  • After we became empty-nesters, my husband and I ate out all the time. Now, with Tim gone, I suddenly had a choice --- either I went out to dinner alone, or I learned to cook for one. But I wasn’t even sure of what I liked to eat anymore. Grief just took my appetite away. And it certainly took away my motivation to learn to cook all over again.

Each of these events --- and many, many others --- made me think, “I should write about this.”

    So, I did. Writing has always been a major part of my life. I decided my new life needed to be written down.

    I started journaling, but eventually began writing what I hoped would become a book. I wrote draft after draft after draft. And slowly I began to record the things that happened once I became a widow. (I also wrote about how I stopped being a “widow” and became a “WWPD” --- woman whose partner died.) Finally, I had a manuscript, and sent it to an editor and book coach, Marisa Solis, for feedback before sending it to a publisher.

     Marisa sent it back with some positive comments. But she also told me, “You wrote that book for yourself. Now write one for your readers.”

     And that’s when the book was really born. After many more drafts, it became a guidebook, of sorts, for women like me who have lost a partner and want to help themselves feel and live better, even as they are grieving. Since I’ve written a couple of teacher education textbooks and resource books, writing in the self-help realm became a natural progression for me. If I could write about how to teach reading to six-year-olds, which I’ve already done as an educator, then surely, I could write about how to manage grief as a WWPD.

     It’s been quite a six-year process.

     My purpose has been to help women who have experienced the loss of a partner and are searching for ways to manage grief with positivity and a sense of humor. The book is titled Grab Life by the Bungees and 50+ Other Ways to Find Humor, Hope and Happiness After Your Partner Dies, and I wrote eleven chapters in which I advocate an upbeat but sincere approach to dealing with death. I contend that there’s only one way to manage the grief associated with losing a partner, and that’s to meet it head-on, with as much humor and positivity as one can muster.  

     A good friend of mine told me, “I’m so proud of you for writing this book.” But I honestly felt that there was no other choice. I had to write it all down, as Marisa said, first for myself, and then for others. I hope that my experiences, research, and suggestions will help someone who has found herself to be in a club she never wanted to join. 

     If you’re a WWPD, I’m sorry you need my book. But I hope it helps.

References

Bonano, G. (2019). The other side of sadness: What the new science of bereavement tells us about life after loss. New York: Basic Books.

      Jenkins, B. (2020, January 13). 23 funny tombstones that actually exist. Available from https://www.liveabout.com/funny-tombstones-4177809

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