Today, quite by chance I caught up with a friend of mine from way back.  I had got to know her through another friend and had always enjoyed the time I spent with her.  Two years back she lost her husband and I have only seen her once since, when she told me in a very humorous way how much she missed her husband Jeoff, but how difficult he had been to live with for 35 years.  She was realistic about their marriage but she grieved for the fun they had shared and his physical presence.  Some time later she met up with an old friend, also widowed, and they had begun to share meals together and visit the cinema occasionally.  I was very happy for her.  Time went by and although I thought of her from time to time, I did not bump into her and we had never had the kind of friendship where we rang each other or met for lunch.  Circumstances recently caused me to think about her and so I found out her number from a mutual friend and rang her last evening.

She was so pleased to hear from me and we shared stories about our sons and the arrival of my daughter's first child.  She told me she had moved house as she felt she needed a new start.  I learnt that her man friend had suffered a serious illness and how glad she was that she was able to share it with him.  They would always be friends and she valued that but she would never marry again.  She told me she felt Jeoff's presence everywhere, even in the new house where he had never been.  The thing she did say which surprised me and made me think, was that so many of their friends had dropped her like a hot brick after his death.  She was no longer included in dinner parties with them, nor was she invited to any of the charity events she had previously bought tickets for.  Strangely, she had met up with a lot of them the previous night when her husband's profession met for dinner and she had received an invite, the first since he died.  She said they crowded round her, told her how well she looked and how much courage she had shown.  She smiled but thought to herself how nice it would have been if they had showed her as much attention before.  She had, she said, found out who her true friends were.  She is a most attractive, bubbly personality who is now regarded by other wives as not suitable company.  What shallow people they were I thought, and I know most of them.  I was so sad for her and made up my mind there and then to invite her to the next party we arranged.  In fairness, I had never really known her husband or been in his close company, so I had no need to feel guilty, but it did make me aware of the plight of other widows.  It made me remember how lost my own mother had felt when my father died prematurely.

Most of us are happy in our comfort zone, scared to imagine what life would be like without our partners but not thinking enough about others in less fortunate circumstances.  It's hard for people who have lost their partners through divorce or death to enjoy the same social status they did before.  Fortunately, within my church, we are aware of that and widows are embraced within the church family.  Outside it is different.  If anybody reads this and they know someone who has recently been widowed, why not invite them round for a meal.  It has certainly made me think.