Finding a way out of darkness

Suddenly all the plans you had with your partner, the adventures you planned for your retirement and dreams of how you would spend the rest of your life together are shattered.

You’ve lost your best friend decades before you thought you would and now you must adapt to your new life, alone.

This is the position Angela Farish, 52, of Cargo, Elaine Bourner, 51, of Scotby and Shona Barlow, 41, of Annan, found themselves in.

All three women lost their husbands in the last three years and suddenly found their lives turned upside down.

“Your future’s just wiped out,” says Shona, who has three children aged 19, 16 and 14. “You’re on a new path that you never wanted to walk.”

Angela agreed, saying: “You just feel like you’ve hit a brick wall.”

Elaine says: “You’re at the age where you’re working and planning for your retirement and what you’re going to do and all of a sudden it’s not there. It’s just gone, you’ve got to start a new life. You wake up the next morning and you’ve just got to start again. Life number two.”

This unexpected second life is often desolately lonely but it doesn’t have to be. Elaine, Shona and Angela are all members of Widowed and Young (WAY), a national charity that has local groups.

They are keen to promote the Cumbria group and get others involved – at the moment there are only about 38 members in Cumbria and the three women are sure there are a lot more widows and widowers in the county who would benefit from joining.

To be eligible to join WAY, you must be 50-years-old or younger when your partner died. There is an annual membership fee of £25, which gives people access to information, a 24-hour confidential telephone helpline and subgroups.

These subgroups include ones for people who like fell walking, very young widows or widowers and those with adult children or no children.

Elaine Bourner Elaine and Angela are both part of WAYWOKS – widowed and young without kids, a subgroup that has more than 300 members nationally.

The aims of WAY and the subgroups are for people who understand each other’s experiences to get together not only so that they can support each other but also to have a good time.

“You just want company with someone who knows. Who gets it,” says Shona.

“And you just want someone to talk to because your house is empty,” adds Angela.

There are two or three WAY events each month and as more people join and gain the confidence to organise events, there are more things happening. Gatherings range from visits to the pub to group trips.

“It’s basically about getting together and having fun,” says Elaine, “That’s the support group we want because you do spend a lot of time on your own at home so sometimes with events people really look forward to them.

“You want to go somewhere and have a good time, let your hair down and have a laugh. If you want to sit in the corner and cry, someone will come and sit with you and chat to you.

“You’re never on your own, everybody’s understanding, everybody knows the situation, everybody ‘gets it’ as they keep saying.

“We don’t go out and sit there miserable. A lot of the time when we go out, they wonder what the event is because we’re all having such fun because we don’t care anymore. We just go for it.”

The three women have found being surrounded by people who have also lost their loved ones incredibly comforting, especially as other friends may not understand.

Shona Barlow Shona says: “It’s good to have an ear to listen to our woes because your friends don’t want to listen to death and stuff.”

“Not after a certain amount of time anyway,” says Elaine, “Once you’ve got six months or a year under your belt, it’s old news to them but it’s not to the likes of us.”

All of the women said they still felt their loss keenly and though time had helped in some ways, in others their grief feels as heavy now as ever.

Angela says of friends: “They think you’re alright. Your friends and family see you going away for weekends, going out for meals, going out for nights out and looking normal but you’re not.

“Their lives have gone on. In our old life three years is a long time, it’s something that happened a long time ago but for us it’s just five minutes ago. So everybody’s lives and full and busy, which you can understand, but ours aren’t.”

The widows also find parts of their friends and family’s lives hard to sympathise with. Elaine says: “You can’t tolerate people complaining about their other halves. What are you complaining about? He put the towel on the rack the wrong way round, big deal.”

Shona says: “It’s never going to change. Two and a half years I’ve lost my husband and nothing’s going to change.”

Shona is part of another group separate to WAY, for those bereaved by suicide, called BBSI.

“We have our own separate thing on Facebook where we can vent all our feelings without being judged just because it’s different,” she says. “You wouldn’t want your friends and family to know what you’re thinking sometimes.”

Shona says though the feelings of guilt are the same with everyone, it seems they are a bit more pronounced with those bereaved by suicide.

“I suppose it’s different for everybody but my main thing was the guilt when my husband died,” she says. “It’s got a bit better. I don’t feel as guilty anymore but the loss is still there.

“Every time you turn over and he’s not there. He’s all around you but he’s not.”

Still Shona says the strength you find within yourself to carry on is surprising.

She says: “It’s surprising how strong you are when you’re faced with it. You have to get on with it.”

Elaine adds: “You’ve got no choice. You’ve got to do it.”

One of the main differences the women thought there is between being bereaved when you’re younger than 50 is the fact that you still have lots you want to do with your life but suddenly there’s no one to do it with.

Elaine says: “When you’re still young, you’re still active, there’s still lots for you to do. You want to go up the fells, you want to do this and that holiday. I suppose when you’re older you’ve maybe done all that and you’re slowing down and relaxing more.”

Angela Farish Angela says: “I think if you’re in your 80s, you’ve had your life, you’ve done everything you want to do. It’s kind of expected.”

The women have found that if they decide to make last minute plans, they either have to go on their own or not go at all. As the alternative is sitting in their house alone, they said contacting other WAY members was always the better option.

Angela says: “There is the support network available and we try to meet up once a month.

“We’re there if someone wants to go out for a coffee or a chat, a meal, anything. Even if they say, ‘Does anybody want to meet tomorrow night?’ then somebody will be there.

“It might be one person, two people, three people, six people, it might just be a phone call but there is support out there.”

The motto of WAY is fittingly ‘What’s the worst that can happen? It already has’ – a motto they all agree with.

Elaine says: “Nothing’s important anymore. I’m a bit more chilled and stressed out maybe. Nothing’s a drama, nothing will stress me out.”

Angela agreed saying: “Do you remember all those weeks when we used to go shopping and used to stress over a cushion or a candle and worry about whether it’s the right thing to buy? We’ve just now got houses full of stuff.”

Material possessions have no meaning for the widows now, only people. By connecting with people who have been through similar terrible experiences, the women say they have found a deep source of comfort.

They encouraged everyone who would be eligible to join WAY on the website www.widowedandyoung.org.uk/ or through email on: membership@widowedandyoung.org.uk .