A few minutes ago, I was lying on my bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling and wondering why I had not written my story yet. It occurred to me that I was worried how this would affect people close to Rob… then I thought of you, the reader – and the take-away I wish to gift you by sharing so authentically.
Here is my download for you, straight from my heart; so please open yours while reading it.
My husband, Rob died very suddenly; from a brain aneurysm whilst away on a business trip. We were in the prime of our lives at just 45; our boys only 10 and eight. We were known as “that couple”. Rob put me on a pedestal and raved about me at any chance presented to him. I was his Queen, he adored me; he was my knight in shining armour! We were still deeply in love after 12 years of marriage.
Watch a snippet of Marie's Tedx Talk: Redefining our image of a widow. Post continues after video.
You can read more about our story, which I previously shared with Mamamia here.
Today I’d like to give you Part Two. What happened thereafter.
I had a realisation that took about three years before it hit me: I had been referring to myself as a 'single mum'. Yet there is a difference – most single mums at my age were separated or divorced. Even more importantly: a 'single parent' usually indicates that there’s another single parent somewhere else; one that you split weekends and school holidays with, and those big (and little) decisions you make throughout…