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Gray Matter
Single Souls
One Widow’s Story: “Building a New Life”
It is written that stories are America’s prayers; they are connective tissue. For many, stories become soul.
Every working newsman understands how stories give shape to human experience. Without stories, everything that happens would simply float about. None of it would mean anything.
Thus, it becomes the assignment of the widow (and widower) to write her narrative, to gather the melancholy facts into a story. Here is one widow’s story—a learning lesson, perhaps.
“I was widowed following 25 years of a richly fulfilling, loving marriage. My husband Larry, a Harvard-trained microbiologist, and I worked side-by-side as a medical writing team. And, while Larry survived many ‘close calls’ because of life-threatening illnesses, he always came through. One more thing: he never stopped working; my Ph.D. husband never missed a deadline.
“Then, on March 21, 2007, I lost my partner to lung cancer. Even though I was with him throughout radiation and chemotherapy treatments, Larry’s death hit me hard. Yes, I was relieved he no longer was suffering; nonetheless, I wanted my sweetheart back inside the loving, safe-haven that was our home.”
This is how Sharon L. Prescott, 62, of San Diego, CA, begins her letter here. A month thereafter, widow Prescott is inside her late husband’s study: identifying the smell of his aftershave, listening to his voice on the answering machine, and celebrating his orderliness. Example: “His pencils are still in rows, like so many soldiers, waiting to battle still one more medical article.”
Mirroring Larry’s thoroughness, Sharon sent out obituaries to her late husband’s friends. One boyhood pal telephoned from Maryland, more than once, and quickly an association was formed.
“I found these calls from Dick and Ruth Hyman healing, even therapeutic,” Sharon remembers. The friend, Dick, often put his wife on the phone, and so an invitation to visit them in Odenton, Maryland, came next.
“I asked my two grown sons whether I should go,” Sharon says. “I said: ‘Am I nuts? I mean, I hardly know these people…’”
The visit, in a word, proved magical: “Dick and Ruth extended their arms and hugged me as though we had known one another all our lives. The rest of the weekend was equally fantastic. We shared stories and photographs, and my new friends took me to see Larry’s boyhood homes, his schools….”
One memory, in particular, was worth the long trip: “I actually saw an alley where Dick and Larry had played ball. Listening to Dick call up their time together sent a chill up my spine.”
As the adventure drew to a close, there was a Hyman family farewell party and the widow Prescott was given a framed photograph of Larry, pictured alongside Dick, “Friends for all time.”
“I came home with renewed energy,” Sharon reports, “and with a confidence I can go on, living life to the fullest without my devoted partner. Moreover, I hope my story can be of some small help to others who today are riding that emotional roller coaster we call widowhood.”
The object lesson, I submit: Dare to venture out. When you’re ready, and prepared, climb back into life: big time.
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Outrageous Associations
