Role Model

I always say that I have no model for being a widow.  My mom, my model for so many things, died before my dad.  l never saw her cope with the loss of her partner or try to build a life on her own. But that's what my dad had to do.  And he did it with such courage and dignity.  Only now do I have a sense of what a devastating task that must have been for him, the quiet, silent partner in their marriage. She was all personality and charisma.  He was steady and solid and content to follow where she led and to live in the spaces she created.

My father's inner life was always a mystery to me.  When I was young, I
imagined his silence held great depths of feeling.  When I was older, I
was not so sure.

And now whenever I am feeling particularly alone and fragile, unsure whether I can face the challenges of my new life, I think of my dad with love of course but also such admiration for what he went through and how he managed to live with his loss.  He never complained.  He never told me what he must have been feeling.  He spared me his pain.  He got through each day as best he could.  He was the bravest man I ever knew.