My experience of grief and loss is somewhat different from Anne Richardson Roiphe’s and probably from everybody else’s. The variables of relationships and situation are endless of course.

In my case I think grief for my late husband began when I heard the word “carcinoma” following a procedure he had undergone. He was 56, and so was I. We had been married less than five years. I had lost my only sibling earlier that year, my eldest daughter four years before and my only grandchild seven months before that. Initially, my grief for the loss of my husband took the form of denial. He would be among the 5% who survive his type of cancer, and we would be fine. We had less than a year of “fine,” and I coped. It was a privilege for which I am grateful to be there for him.

But in the ten years since, I’ve grieved and grieved all the losses I couldn’t at their times. For me, it’s not about self-pity, although there have been times when I have become self-absorbed as I explored the realities of my unfolded life. It is true that I care more for myself because there really is no one else to do it. I am gentler with myself than I used to be. I forgive lapses more in myself and in others. And most of all, I have developed an intimacy with God, who was always my support but now is my constant companion.

Perhaps the worst of my moments is when I think that I should have been the one to go. He had worked so hard and deserved to enjoy the material life he left me. His surviving family, children and grandchildren, one born since his death, would have been a joy to him. There is a burden of responsibility toward him and them that I carry heavily. It’s not really survivor guilt, but more a sense of obligation. Again, I fall back on God and the belief that things are unfolding as they should, whether I understand them or not.

So with all that I’ve said, I live in some version of contentedness, as I move about the world, traveling, studying, loving, despairing, and always knowing that nothing in life is ever guaranteed. And despite criticism and questions, I still wear my wedding ring.

Thank you for the program and the book. May listeners and readers be enlightened, and may Anne Richardson Roiphe find some comfort every day.

Janet L
Hilton Head Island

Thank you for this show. When I lost my boyfriend/fiance of almost 8 years to brain cancer, I devoured stories from others in similar situations. It helped me so much to be reminded that I was not alone in this, however heartrending it was. I was 31 when he died and Michael was 16 years older than me so we had always known the odds were good that he would die before me. But we hadn’t thought this soon.

I’ve been lucky enough to fall in love again. My new boyfriend has been very supportive and allows me the space to grieve whenever I have my recurring grief attacks. Friends and family have also been supportive but sometimes I feel self-conscious when I’m missing Michael. I feel like some people expect me to move on with my life.

My mother was widowed in 2006 after sixty years of being married to her best friend. She is a very private person and has had little opportunity to share her feelings and experience of widowhood with other women. She recently read a review of Epilogue in the New York Times book review and was stunned by the similarity of experience as she read excerpts. I could see how important the ability to connect experiences was for her and went out and bought the book for her. She is currently staying with me and reading it so that she can share her feelings as she shares this journey with Ann. I just had the privilege of listening to Ann Roiphe on “On Point” and wanted to say a heartfelt thank you for writing this book with such genuine truth and emotion and yes, hope. I truly believe this will be immensely instrumental in my Mom’s journey.

Thank you for this program, and for your book,Anne Roiphe.I lost my husband suddenly, much like Anne Roiphe did, after 36 years of a very happy marriage. I went through all of the feelings she and others have described, including feeling unable to go on.

However one does get through it (not over it),eventually and we find a way to reinvent a life that is lived without the constant presence and reference to a beloved partner.Being on our own becomes the norm,rather than always having a partner. That’s the good news.

I wanted to tell Anne, and others, that there is a “summer camp” for some adults and there are both singles and couples living in a supportive,fun community.The one I discovered is called Pelican Cove in Sarasota Florida, but I’m sure there are similar communities all over the USA.

Reading these comments made me realize how timely my wife’s, Deborah K. van den Hoonaard, book is: “The Widowed Self: The Older Woman’s Journey Through Widowhood” (Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2001), an in-depth study of women over the age of 55. She was surprised and elated to discover that many women created new lives, often in unanticipated directions.

Men also loose spouses, and find much to adjust to. I know many men who are now widowers. I have known some widowers who again found a spouse, often a lonely widow.
At present I have a house alone. We had no children. Family lives far away. But I have many friends who I see at least weekly, at church, churches [I work for one, I'm a member at another.] I participate in bands, choruses, orchestras, ensembles, and so I find fellow spirits many of whom also have survived a marriage.

I suffered a major loss 14 years ago and it changed my life dramatically forever. I still have not ‘gotten over’ it but have learned to live with the reality I am left with - which isn’t half bad. Listening to this program has caused me to recall many aspects of the entire experience. I was reminded of a poem that meant a lot to me when I ran across it many years ago. It’s called The Cure by Albert Huffstickler. Here it is:

We think we get over things.
We don’t get over things.
Or say, we get over the measles
but not a broken heart.
We need to make that distinction.
That things that become part of our experience
never become less a part of our experience.
How can I say it?
The way to ‘get over’ a life is to die.
Short of that, you move with it,
let the pain be pain,
not in the hope that it will vanish
but in the faith that it will fit in,
find its place in the shape of things
and be then not any less pain but true to form.
Because anything natural has an inherent shape
and will flow towards it.
And a life is as natural as a leaf.
That’s what we’re looking for:
not the end of a thing but the shape of it.
Wisdom is seeing the shape of your life
without obliterating (getting over) a single
instant of it.

I lost my husband almost 11 years ago. He died of a sudden heart attack on our 25th anniversary vacation in Mexico, at the top of a temple in the Mayan ruins. He was 49, and I was 47. Although I had two daughters, I did not want to go on, didn’t think I could bear it. It took about 5 years to feel like a person again, and I now lead a full life with much joy. I couldn’t have done it without my widow friends. I was “lucky” to meet other young widows and over the years we have been there for each other. We share a bond that is so special. We have fun together, we cry together when we need to, and we have gained wisdom and compassion along the way. It does get better…We read many books on grief. I plan to read this one, too. Helping other widows get through it is good medicine.

First, I want to thank Anne Roiphe for writing an equisitely sensitive and intelligent book that I read many years ago called “Generation Without Memory”. It helped me to find words to describe my own search on a similar journey at that time. How ironic that I should learn of her new book “Epilogue” while listening to NPR on my way home from work this evening. I lost my partner suddenly and unexpectedly when he had a heart attack at the age of 54 ten years ago. I appreciated Anne Roiphe’s comment that it is like being in a new landscape that you get used to…Exactly! I look forward to reading her book “Epilogue” and thank her for being such a wonderfully thoughtful,honest writer all these years!

I lost my husband at the age of 40 and our daughters were 14 and 8 years old. We were, at the time at the pinnacle of the immigrants dream, we accomplished the “American Dream.”
And then he died of a sudden massive heart attack, although looking back, it wasn’t so sudden because he had the tell-tell symptoms of heart disease, he chose not to do anything about it.
I was left with two young daughters, a mortgage I couldn’t afford on my income, two car loans, his photography business,…a nightmare!!!!

I cried every day for the first six month on my way to and from work, I talked to him, told him work news and dealt with my daughters grief.

Then I got mad at him, really mad at him. Twenty years later I prefer not to talk about him because it brings up my anger and I don’t want to remember him this way.

It is interesting to me to realize that many of the experiences discussed in the program are not gender specific. I lost my wife of 41 years in July and am experiencing much of the same feelings expressed by the women who called into the program.
I would like to know if anyone has more info on the professor who also contributed to the program. I did not get his name but believe he is from San Francisco State University. The concept of multiple griefs is one thing I’ve felt.
Thanks for a wonderful program.

Hi John, glad you liked the show. The other guest was Professor Brian de Vries; his info is up on the site now.

My experience of listening to Anne Roiphe’s experience took on a much different one than most of your guests, i would imagine. I feel empathy for her and everyone who lost a spouse in any way. My perspective is from an entire different direction. I need to say that my life is fullfilled as best as I have tried to fill it. As I was listening to Roiphe speak about how she coped with losing her husband I just realized I have spent much of my life alone. I go to the grocery store, alone. I eat alone at a restaurant. I go see my married couple friends for supper. I go alone to the movies. The thing is that I don’t know how to do anything but rely on myself. That’s great, but how do I at 36 learn how to be in a longterm sexual relationship with a man? I’ve had relatioships but they don’t last. How do I let go of having to do it all myself and let someone else help me? How do I get used to having the same man in my bed for years and years? How do I get used to something so foreign to me? I keep on practicing.
I am glad I was listening yesterday on my way to pick up laundry detergent for myself. I feel as though I learned a great deal about myself yesterday.

[...] found the keys in the car. He’s also more forgiving toward people. Today on NPR I heard Anne Roiphe on Life After Love which explained some of what he’s been going through. It must be really difficult for [...]

[...] has a podcast interview with Roiphe about her book and I think the comments on the site are just as [...]

I have two intersecting lines with Mrs. Roiphe. Our daughters were classmates at Harvard and I am a psychiatrist. I thought her interview was brilliant. It is a privilege to hear such articulate and intelligent conversation about loss. Honesty, clarity, and courage are qualities that the bereaved person needs to weather what life holds for people who live long lives. Brava.

[...] found the keys in the car. He’s also more forgiving toward people. Today on NPR I heard Anne Roiphe on Life After Love which explained some of what he’s been going through. It must be really difficult for [...]

I am unspeakably grateful to Anne Roiphe for Epilogue. Widowhood is awful, horrible, painful and nasty, but, as I am slowly learning, life does go on and the sun continues to rise, babies are born, rivers flow and life goes on. Like the “pussycat” I too one day will learn to dance alone by the light of the moon, the moon and ance by the light of the moon.

I too enjoyed the book enormously. But I wonder if the writer has thought of doing volunteer work to help her find some contentment. It would seem she is comfortably off financially and it has contributed a lot to my life as a widow. Carmel Pope

I just finished Epilogue and appreciated how “On Point” it was with my experience. I have been widowed twice, once at 51 and remarried at 56. I could not believe how lucky I was to have met my new husband, and could not believe I could be a widow again at 68. I have dealt with the ambivalence of reconnecting. I enjoy the company of men, but do not want to remarry or even live with someone. I’m OK with a wonderful full life. However, I’ve gone through cyberspace dating. To my amazement, Anne Roiphe and I met the same man, C, and had some of the same issues. She made him very identifiable. If it was coincidence, there is a real man that fits the exact discription from Park Slope. Small world and 6 degrees of separation.