Diary of a Widower

Daily entries by a husband, who stayed behind with his two sons

Conversation with a widower

THURSDAY, September 9 – ‘I was a bit afraid to give this to you,’ said the friend, but,  fortunately, she did. I had never heard of the glossy magazine she held in her hand, but one of the articles was very much of interest. Conversation with a widower.

The man lost his partner five years ago. She died when a couple of young thugs threw a paving stone from a bridge. Straight through her windshield. She was killed on the spot. The boys said they were looking for some kicks. Three of the four were sent to prison for years.

He talked about their life, her death, the trial, and above all about the pointlessness of the act. The man’s anger and powerlessness were familiar to me. His anger clearly went very deep, five years on. I ask myself if that is healthy. Perhaps it is. I suspect that there will never be true acceptance.

The same thing must hold true for me. No acceptance. If that ever came, then Jenn’s death would be reduced to a futile event. The very thought makes me angry and frustrated and that in turn has a comforting effect: an inimitable logic which makes the confusion complete.

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