There are way too many widowed people around.

Way.

And is it just me or do there seem to be more and more all of the time?

It’s as if our “club” is growing by leaps and bounds.

And that, my friends, is one of the worst/best things in my world.

Last week I met three newly widowed people and two who are not-so-newly widowed.

It broke my heart.

As if my heart could break any further.

 

I hate meeting new people on this path.

And yet I instantly love them, too.

I hate that they have any reason to meet me …. and yet I’m so relieved that I can be here for them.

 

Who would’ve thought that each of us could be so unhappy to make new friends?

Who would’ve thought that you could cry just by meeting someone?

Who would’ve thought that you could bond instantly with a total stranger?

 

Who would’ve thought that you’d give up everything in your life to not have a reason to meet these people?

 

Who would’ve thought that, in spite of not wanting to be in the same “club” with all of you,

I don’t know what I’d do without you?

 

Who would’ve thought ….