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Don't Call Me a Widow

 Last week, my husband passed away 41 days before our 30th wedding anniversary.  This made me a widow.  I don't say this because I'm looking for sympathy or trying to create drama.  Friends and family have been both supportive and compassionate and I feel loved. But, I've been trying to tease out why  I hate the word widow so much.  I have almost a visceral, punch in the gut reaction every time I hear it, or worse think of myself in those terms; I am now a widow. Weeks, before he'd even begun to seriously decline, I angrily told a friend, "I don't want to be an effin' widow." My mom, a widow herself, suggested that maybe I disliked the term because it made me feel old.  It's true that there are some age assumptions around the word widow, although obviously one's husband might pass away at any age.  But this wasn't quite right for me.  I don't really feel old, widow or not.   I'm a weird person.  I like to know why I think and feel t

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