Da Widda, herself.

Chances are fairly decent that if you are reading this post, you’re either a widow/er, or know somebody who is. Myself, I like the term, “widda”…it seems less grim and dare I say, edgy?? The title of “widow” reminds me of spiders…predatory, and something to be avoided.

And today’s society and culture certainly purposes to AVOID anything unpleasant and depressing, which the widdahood certainly is.

So, how did I find myself in Da ‘Hood? I hope to share that journey on this blog–on this and future posts. But, summarily, three months after marrying the best man I ever met, we discovered he had a massive right-sided brain tumor during what was supposed to be a routine visit to an ENT physician for my husband’s chronic sinusitis.

I expected the doctor to pronounce that my husband would require sinus surgery, but the sinus CT scan had incidentally revealed this sinister finding, instead. Suspended indefinitely was any talk of his sinuses, and we were ordered to check into the hospital ER immediately. Urgently.

Whaa the whaa?? Surely, some sort of mix-up, some mistake…but…

The next couple of months were a frightful travail through two brain surgeries, consultations, and MRI’s. Then, the first seizure scare. And the second.

A year – and – – half later, my precious 37 – year-old husband was gone, leaving behind his 35 – year-old wife–me. We’d just moved into our first home a month prior, some moving boxes yet to be unpacked.

We were even planning children, as the medical community’s consensus by that time had deduced that because the tumor type could not be delineated, B could perhaps enjoy years – decades – of life expectancy before succumbing.

If only!

So, here I find myself almost a year into widdahood. I’m now 36, living in the home we bought, and still striving to make sense of it all. (Trying to make sense of the senseless is a fool’s endeavor, lemme tell ya, but nonetheless). I am a devout Christian–no, I’m not gonna preach at ya, because homegirl doesn’t aspire the pulpit–but expect to see scripture pop up from time to time. If it helps you, awesomesauce!

But, I’m not the judgy variety of Christian. Confession: this widda sports a tattoo (so scandalous!). And she enjoys the occasional adult umbrella beverage (someone alert the preacher)! I work in the healthcare field, adore reading, baths, and cooking.

That’s a bit about me.

I’m hoping to use this blog to collect and purge my thoughts, rant, offer encouragement and compassion, and detail my experiences as a widda. Maybe somebody out there will read this and know they are not alone on this nightmarish lil journey.

Mercy unto you, and peace, and love , be multiplied–Jude 2.

WIDDA B.

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