Remarriage: A Surprising Aftershock

I've been meaning to write this for quite some time, but didn't quite feel ready for it before. I think I'm ready to write now.

**deep breath**

Am I planning on remarrying? So many have asked, and I know many more have wondered. Some have just outright said things like, “When you remarry…” taking it as a given that someone of my age is sure to love again after losing a spouse. It’s funny the kinds of assumptions you learn that people have or don’t have in a situation like this (e.g. grieving/mourning in general). Funny, I suppose, because most of the assumptions are based on, well, nothing, it turns out, and most of the answers are, “Everybody’s different.”

While we’re getting personal, here’s a fun fact (only because “morbid fact” doesn’t have the same ring to it): my husband and I had actually discussed our expectations of the other in the case that one of us ever died young or unexpected. I think it was brought on by hearing about one of those tragic cases of a spouse dying young a couple years ago. If you’re in a committed relationship, I’d strongly recommend having that chat, because it is now one that has come to mean a lot to me, and it took a lot of pressure off when the hypothetical scenario became reality.

In short, my husband said something along the lines of: “You’d better remarry!” and went on to talk about how he would hate for me to be sad, lonely, or bored the rest of my life. Not that he doubted I could entertain myself, but I think he knew I would prefer having company to not. I was less generous and selfless than he in considering the hypothetical crisis, but ultimately – reluctantly – said that I’d be ok with him remarrying. But there was NO WAY I could ever even think about it for me.

So really, it shocked me entirely when shortly after his death, I felt open to the idea.

Death is an earthquake with a lot of shock waves. The loss of the loved one is the epicenter. It’s the strongest, most powerful point of the pain. It’s huge, and it’s right there. It just IS. And it’s deep – severely profound. It reverberates out, though, affecting all sorts of aspects of life, even basic stuff like the foods you eat, clothes you put on, the way you move, etc.

Not only are the affects wide spread, but they are also long lasting. After the initial shock, there are subsequent waves, like mini earthquakes (often still massive, actually, but “mini” by comparison to the first impact). As I was thinking about this, I read the following about seismological earthquakes: “In general, the larger the mainshock, the larger and more numerous the aftershocks, and the longer they will continue.” For the first, oh, 9 months after my husband died (mind you, I’m only 11 months out, even now), every time I thought I was finally getting a handle on this grieving thing, an aftershock wave of grief would come barreling through and emotionally knock me to my feet. My world would shake and tremble, reminding me that it’s all real. All those memories of the officer and victim’s advocate visiting my home and delivering the news we’d most feared, all those memories of my children suddenly not seeing their beloved father anymore, EVERYTHING that seemed like a dream actually took place, and there is real pain still inside me – still inside us. At the same time, those reverberations of tears and pain don’t last as long anymore. I know they will just be with me for the rest of this life, and that’s something I have accepted and actually feel a lot of peace about.

What I had NOT expected was to be shocked in positive ways. I did NOT expect the many blessings and incredible experiences that would come along as aftershocks, in their own right.

One of those surprise tremors was the idea of remarrying. It absolutely shocked me that within a month of my husband’s death, I was already open to the idea. I had not determined that that was definitely the course I wanted, but I did not find the idea as offensive as I had before he died. For the several months thereafter, I felt like I had two personalities: one was gung ho on remarrying, while the other still couldn’t bear the thought. I really felt like it was an arbitrary flip flop going on, seemingly every-other-day. However, now, in the last couple months, my feeling of, “it would be tolerable if the situation for marrying again came up” turned to almost actively searching. (Huge confession: on one lonelier evening several weeks ago, I opened an online dating account to scope out the widower pool in my area. That account lasted about a half hour...including setup time.)

I have wrestled with so many angles of this conversation (which I’ve mostly had internally, or with my late husband; up until now, I have only truly spoken out loud with one or two close friends about this topic): who am I to think that I can marry TWO times in a lifetime, when some people never find even ONE other person to be with; widows and single moms are somewhat glorified in their own right, and I would be honored to be a part of that crowd; could a potential second husband overcome the “step-dad” stigma; do I have to marry a widow, or are other marital statuses “allowed” (e.g. never-married, divorced); what about my last name? My headstone someday? My kids’ last name?; what will my kids call him?...what about this, what about that… SEE! This can go on and on. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

Just go with it. Whatever “it” is. No need to fight one way or the other (for me personally anyway). Details always have a way of sorting themselves out, when the biggest issues are focused on. As usual, whenever multiple options are morally sound, the decision is really up to you, and it’s ok whatever you choose. So, do what feels right to you. Don’t stress so much about the future or mourn so much about the past that you lose out on the present. (#InspirationalCatPosters.)

I’m pretty sure my husband was right. I feel like I will remarry. And I feel like he’ll help with the spouse selection, which belief helps relieve some of the burden. There are a few other very personal elements to my own decision to remarry that I will not share publicly, but are based on goals my husband and I had set for our family, as well as on other spiritual and social beliefs and hopes. And I do NOT mean to insinuate in any way, by writing any of this, that my answer is THE answer. It is just mine. Mine mine mine! (Some things are ok to be selfish about.) I share it not to teach or generalize or convince, but to encourage honesty and soul searching for anyone going through something like this. Maybe you process things similar to the way I do; maybe you don’t. (If you don’t, I have no idea how you persevered to the end of this article. It’s long.) Whatever the case, just remember that the structures that survive earthquakes best are those that absorb the movement and go with it.

_______________________________________________________ Supplemental Inspiration and Fun: From Science: “As a result of the catastrophic damage wrought by earthquakes, they are typically viewed in a negative light. However, earthquakes bring about benefits to people, environments and the planet as a whole. In the midst of their epic destruction, there are several positive side effects… Earthquakes offer deeper insight into the ways the planet works. For all that people understand about Earth, there is still a great deal unknown about the planet. The surface of the planet is the easiest layer to explore. Subterranean layers are more difficult to explore because mining through geologic formations and into liquid magma is complex, if not impossible in certain scenarios” (Riley, “How Do Earthquakes Positively Affect the Environment?” sciencing.com). (I would like to write so much more about this particular quote in light of this blog.)

From Music:

Ok, so the song isn't "inspirational" per se, but pretty great anyway. :)

(*Photo of Greek Cycladic couple borrowed from http://www.agalma.gr/cycladic-figurines/44-cycladic-figurines-statue-plaster-couple.html)