Losing a spouse, whether through divorce or death, is never an easy road, and Hallmark holidays can be a painful reminder. As Bill and I celebrate our first Valentine’s Day as husband and wife, I asked if he would share his thoughts on losing his wife and opening his heart to love again. As a woman whose marriage ended in divorce, I am learning what it means to have married a widower. I love Bill’s heart and pray that his words will bring encouragement to whoever may need it.

Fog, disbelief, confusion, loss.

Those four words summarize my being in the immediate aftermath of suddenly losing my wife of 37 years. We were planning on growing old together, enjoying our grandchildren, taking road trips. All that ended on March 19, 2020.

In the midst of the fog, I realized that my joy was gone. My best friend was no longer with me. I didn’t know if I would ever again experience joy in my life.

We were kids when we met – I was 23 and Debbie was 19. We fell in love and were married seven months later. We had no idea what we were doing, but we had each other, and it worked – very well. We raised three kids and had a great marriage. The kids grew and before we knew it, they were getting married and having kids of their own. We had newfound freedom being empty nesters. We did some traveling for my sports and spent great quality time with her parents. Life was good and we expected so many more years together. I was even looking forward to our 50^th wedding anniversary. There was no thinking that we wouldn’t reach that great milestone.

Then, in a moment, Debbie was gone. Although she was no longer here, I continued to love her – and be in love with her. That would never change.

Grieving is work. It is wave after wave of emotions. Sadness, pain, hurt, sorrow, loneliness, loss, anger, questioning, pleading, lamenting. There was no room for joy. I’ve learned that as one grieves and does not hide from the emotions it brings, healing begins. Slowly, I noticed that the weight wasn’t quite as heavy. Early on in my grieving, I looked as grieving as a process – having a beginning and an end. I was so wrong. Grieving never ends. It hurts less, but there’s some element of sadness and loss that is always present. Even now, just about two years later, I’m still grieving, but am much better.

I had received a sympathy card about three weeks after Debbie passed away. It was from a friend who had lost her husband at a young age. In the card she wrote, “The joy will return.” I didn’t believe it, but it did offer a glimmer of hope.

Joy is a deep satisfaction, more substantial than happiness, far more than just a feeling. It is a secure knowledge of something good. Could I have joy again?

On December 13, 2020, I was introduced to Julie. While I was not ready to entertain the thought of spending time with another woman, I had agreed to the introduction. If I had not grieved so intentionally, I would not have been prepared for what was to come.

We went to lunch on the Saturday before Christmas. That four-and-a-half-hour lunch led to a Christmas Eve visit and another lunch on the day after Christmas. Unexpectedly, I felt joy returning to my heart. It wasn’t long before Julie and I were in love. We were engaged in a month and married five months later. We have a lifetime of experiences to share with each other and appreciate our time together so very much.

One of the most special moments in my story was when I was visiting with Debbie’s parents, Larry and Shirley, after my first date with Julie. I am very close to Larry and Shirley. As I was visiting with them, telling them about my first date with Julie and what I was thinking and feeling, Larry said, “We know you loved Debbie with all your heart, and you gave her a very good life. We also know that you are able to love someone else.” This from a man who had lost his oldest daughter and loving me as his son, freed me to pursue Julie.

I’ve learned through and in all of this that I can experience sorrow and joy at the same time. I am sad that I lost Debbie but am filled with joy in having Julie in my life. I found that I can love Debbie and love Julie. I’m not sure that I can explain how that can be possible, but I know that it is.

Julie is a special woman. She understands the impact that Debbie had on my life for our 37 years together. That time made me who I am and since Julie loves who I am, she honors my life with Debbie. I love Julie with all I am and all I have. My love for her is not diminished in any way by my love for Debbie.

Julie’s wise cousin, Steve Peterson, often shared in his counseling ministry that more than one thing can be true at the same time. I have learned that I can hold my memories of Debbie and love Julie well in the present, both at the same time. I rest in the knowledge that Debbie is rejoicing with her savior in heaven, and that God brought Julie and I together to restore our broken hearts and love each other well on earth.