(Some use the term “wister” for the widow sisterhood – thus, the origin of this post’s title.)

Some posts ago I spoke about Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant’s Option B:  Facing Adversity, Building Resilience and Finding Joy.  Sandberg’s story is well-known and her chronicle of the pain and challenges resonated with me.  Now I want to plug another wister blogger, Erica Roman.  You may have seen her recent impassioned support of widower and comedian Patton Oswalt, who became engaged fifteen months after his beloved wife passed away.  Here’s my favorite line from her WordPress blog found at https://ericaroman.me/2017/07/07/a-widows-rage-defense-of-patton-oswalts-engagement/ :

“How long should a widow sit in isolation before YOU are comfortable enough                      to release them from their solitary confinement?”

A powerful statement.

As her blog went viral, two of my extended family members reached out to me in a supportive way about her opinions.  Roman is very clear, having become a pregnant widow with a toddler at a young age.  In a CBS interview earlier this month (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OksrTnY8gCA ) she said,” . . . there’s a difference between being able to watch someone’s [grief] process and the right to speak into the process.”

Where do you stand on a widow or widower dating again, or perhaps even remarrying?

Just as with so many social issues, my views have evolved over time, and there’s nothing like becoming a member of the club to bring things into focus.  When my father began to date after six months of widower-hood, I bit my tongue even though it seemed early to me.  But in reality, he and I were never going to live in the same area, he was lonely and his lady friend offered an opportunity for a robust social life and travel that had faded away as my mother also faded.  (I admit I adhere to the common perception that a man doesn’t do as well on his own without a woman — whereas a woman, such as me, often can handle things competently on her own.)

While I have taken little or no action to initiate dating, I am now starting to think and talk about it.  What are appropriate expectations?  When will I know I am ready?  How do I honor, love and cherish Rick if another man becomes a part of my new version of life?  How will those important to me – family and close friends – react if I take this step?

When a woman loses her partner she often loses some access to social activities which are couple-centered.  Even invitations to dinner are not as frequent and she must rely more on women-only or family events.  I have railed against this seemingly unfair result of my new marital status, and in talking to other widows I find their experiences akin to mine.  We are encouraged to clump together for no good reason other than our spouses are gone – shared interests and activities are irrelevant to some of those outside our club.  No wonder a widow often wants to date again – she wants companionship, friendship, shared interests, intimacy – and she also wants to return to her earlier rhythm of life.

A shift in my view, now based on age and experience:   I cannot sit in judgement of others, nor do I want others to judge me on this issue.