I began writing this blog in January of 2022. Coming up on four years, if I’m doing the math correctly, and I’m never quite sure. It started as a way to chronicle my journey after Scott died in 2019—a return to writing, a passion of mine since I was 12. SInce then a lot has happened. I’ve told you about most of it. But looking back, I haven’t talked much about actually being a widow.

Well, today is Scott’s birthday. He would have been 76. Not a milestone birthday, but it has pulled me up short, nonetheless. And I have been waxing rhapsodic all day, in my head.

I don’t think people say “waxing rhapsodic” much anymore or at all. I’m not sure people wax much of anything besides cars, mustaches, and bikinis, but certainly not by way of thinking or speaking. I may be the only one.

Anyway, as usual, I digress.

Being widowed is a full-time job. It’s all day, every day, 24/7/365. I don’t get holidays off or sick days or personal days. Every morning when I wake up, I am a widow, and every night when I go to bed, I am still a widow.

I can’t escape it. Oh, maybe I forget for a few hours, but something always brings me back to the reality of it: a smell triggers a memory, someone mentions him, I taste a food, visit a place, the simplest thing can do it.

I go to upstairs and see his picture on the landing. I sit on my sofa and see a picture come up on my scrolling digital frame, or that damn Facebook memory thing pops up with a picture. Do I want to show one from now? You mean one with me alone? I don’t think so, but thank you for the reminder.

So today is Scott’s birthday, and I posted a note to my children, and told them I love them, and a note to my siblings, and told them I love them. Tonight I will see his sister, and I will hug her, and tell her I love her.

Then Molly did the sweetest and cruelest thing. In reply to my post, she posted Happy Durday, Cos. That was how Lyla sang, with her sweet baby voice, Happy Birthday to the grandad she called Cos.

And that was the thing. And I sobbed for thirteen minutes.

Because he’s gone. And I am a widow, all day, every day, forever.