Surprise! What I Didn't Expect After the Passing of My Husband

I thought I had prepared for this. Bill had been declining for years, and I had slowly adjusted to the ongoing grief that comes with watching someone you love fade. I knew he was suffering, and part of me was ready for him to have peace. When he passed, I felt relief—briefly. Two days later, the real grief arrived.

I didn’t expect how sad I would be. Every time I see his photo or think about the life we had, I cry. I miss the old Bill. I miss having a “person”—someone who loved me, supported me, and enjoyed the simple routines of life with me. I miss hearing, “That was delicious,” when I fixed his favorite meal or “You look nice” when I dressed up for him. Those were constants in the early years. The last few years were different, but now that he’s gone, I can only seem to remember the good ones, and that brings its own sadness.

I also didn’t expect how quickly my income would drop. I knew it would happen, but the speed was shocking. Social Security immediately stopped his benefit. The VA disability pension was deposited and then immediately withdrawn. One of his pensions stayed only because it was the end of the month; a week later, that too was reduced. I will eventually receive his Social Security and, most likely, a smaller VA surviving spouse benefit, but nothing can even be applied for until the death certificates arrive. How long will that take? Who know? Fortunately, I had saved his VA money, so I’m prepared for the short-term gap. But I wonder how many widows and widowers know how fast these financial changes hit.

We aren’t having a service, and I’m not part of a church or work community. There is no gathering where people line up to hug you, no casserole deliveries, no flowers sent to a funeral home. What I didn’t expect was how comfort would show up anyway, just from different places. Quiet walks around town. Flowers from my daughter’s friend. A sympathy card from someone I hadn’t heard from in years. Laughing with friends at Dickens on the Strand. Simple meals with my kids.

And then there’s Poochini—the animated dog I brought home from the VA. He barks, wags his tail, and greets me whenever I walk into the apartment. Odd as it sounds, there is comfort in that kind of steady presence.

I’ve also been surprised at how quickly I’ve slipped into rebuilding mode. I’m making plans, seeing friends, organizing my finances, and exploring new business ideas. I expected to be immobilized by grief for months, but instead I’m already taking steps forward. I didn’t anticipate that.

What I’ve learned is that loss rarely looks the way you think it will. And that’s what I didn’t expect.