Notes from Planet Widow: Finding My Way After Loss

The story of how a grieving woman painstakingly found her way through the alien territory of widowhood.

Life was rolling along largely in the way my husband and I expected it would. Ups and downs here and there, for sure, but basically on a mostly predictable trajectory. But on an August day I will never forget, our normalcy vaporized with the sudden death of my beloved husband. Boom! Without warning, I landed on Planet Widow, an utterly barren landscape with no roads, no buildings, no people, no trees, no anything in sight-only total desolation with mind-bending disorientation and soul-piercing heartache as my sole companions.

I had no vision of what life could look like in such a place. Slowly, however-oh, so agonizingly slowly-a landscape began to take shape. Signposts came into focus to reveal a path forward. Insights built on each other to form a trail of breadcrumbs that I used to hold myself together as I learned a new way of being.

Notes from Planet Widow is a story of rebirth, describing the trail of insights that knit themselves together to restore my sense of wholeness within an altered context. While I couldn't totally eradicate grief, I could learn profound lessons from it. Finding the courage to be open to it as a fierce teacher, I slowly lived my way into a new realization of self that includes grief, transforming disorientation into grounding and a measure of peace.

"This book is deep, curious, and full of wonder. . .It is a gifted piece of writing. . . sometimes difficult yet elevating to read. Wise and wonderful."

- Leigh Steiner, Ph.D., Former Illinois Commissioner of Mental Health

"This insightful work narrates Gwen's journey of grief and grace in widowhood. Quoting myriad writers, sages, philosophers, poets, and more, it blazes with personal and universal understandings . . . As a stand-alone, the Resources section at the end is an invaluable tool to help readers pursue their own journeys of self-compassion and acceptance."

- Sara J. Glerum, Beatstalkingtomyself.com