When We Were Widows

by Annette Chavez Macias

Truth was, it took a lot for me to let go. I’d learned early on that coloring inside the lines earned you praise and respect. Being responsible and professional opened doors, especially in the corporate world, for someone who looked like me.

sometimes our grief can overwhelm us, and we’re

so busy just trying to not drown that it’s hard to see the buoys or life jackets that the universe is trying to throw our way.

there’s this belief that if we don’t talk about our grief in public, then we must be doing okay. And eventually that’s exactly what we want others to think, so we start to censor ourselves and not express every emotion.”

Maybe these people weren’t my family or even friends, but we shared a bond that grew stronger every time we were together. I now understood the power of group healing.

Grief, I’d learned, didn’t have a finish line. It was an endless journey. Some days the path was easy, and other days you’d be running perfectly fine and then, out of nowhere, you’d stumble, and the pain would come roaring back as if your loss had just happened.