The dreaded 'W' word
Widow: I don’t think it’s a very nice word,’ Barbara Want tells me. ‘I always say it’s the last thing on the list of boxes you tick – Single, Married, Divorced, Widowed. If you’re young and widowed, it’s even worse.’
Want has been defined by this word for the past six-and-a-half years. Her husband, The World At One presenter Nick Clarke, passed away in 2006 following a battle with cancer. ‘I was widowed at the age of 46,’ she states. ‘I still can’t quite believe it.’
She has been very open about her struggle to come to terms with her husband’s death. Her book, Why Not Me?, goes into unforgiving detail about his illness, and how she was torn apart by her loss. ‘When men are widowed, it’s sort of expected that they’ll fall apart. People rush to their aid. But I get the impression women are somehow supposed to be very brave and strong and noble.
‘Grief never goes away. I still have panic attacks when I realise I am never going to speak to Nick again.’
With International Widows Day this week, Want is keen to emphasise that along with the humanitarian efforts to help widows in developing countries, a lot still needs to be done to help those bereaved in our society. The biggest hurdle, she says, is that people are afraid to talk about it.
‘I think my friends were frightened of me when it happened, because they didn’t know what to say. Most of them disappeared.’ She describes situations where people she had known for years could not bring themselves to mention Nick’s passing. ‘If my house burnt down, I was seriously disfigured and people didn’t mention it – that would be bizarre. The depth of the impact is the same, but because you can’t see it, I sense there’s permission to avoid it.’
Want met Clarke when they both worked at the BBC in the late 1980s. They soon fell in love, marrying on a beach in Mauritius in 1991. Along with his wife, Clarke left behind their twin sons, Benedict and Joel, who are now aged 10.
‘People always say, “At least you have the children.” Of course I do and I’m so grateful for that, but at the time of being bereaved, having young children is a huge burden.’
She discovered that grief dwarfs every other emotion, even the unconditional love between parent and child. ‘For the first two years after Nick died, I was a terrible, terrible mother. I hate to admit it, but they saw me lying on the floor howling. I got furious with them when they were needy because I was so drained. The worst thing is…’ She pauses, her eyes glazing over; ‘The worst thing is, I felt at the time that I didn’t love them. As a mother, that is awful.’
She received help from a Cruse Bereavement Care counsellor (‘without whom I would not have survived’) who taught her that what she was feeling was normal. ‘She promised me that the love would return and it did. But it took a long time.’
Clarke, with his courteous interviewing style and natural charisma, was well on the way to becoming a national treasure when he died at the age of 58. ‘There’s added pain when you lose someone who is not only precious to you, but precious to lots of other people too,’ she says.
It would be easy to assume that she is romanticising her relationship, but her account is made all the more poignant by the fact that she is so realistic. ‘Oh, we used to argue all the time. It was just that sense of being with the right person. I used to think that if I were on a desert island with him for the rest of my life, we would never run out of things to talk about.’
Of course, as with any bereavement, it is not just the person that disappears. It is the hopes, the plans, even a sense of self, that is wrenched away. ‘People don’t realise how much you lose. The whole is much greater than the sum of the parts when there are two of you. And what’s left is not half, it’s a fraction.’
The responses to her book showed Want that these sentiments are universal. ‘Feeling isolated, losing your status, being alienated from friends and family, happens to everybody.’
The biggest help is having someone to talk to. ‘When you are widowed, people often remark, “I don’t know what to say.” You don’t have to find words. Just listen.’
International Widows Day, on 23 June, is a day of action to help raise awareness of the plight of widows around the world. To support IWD this year, please take part in the Loomba Foundation's 5K charity walk in Hyde Park - visit www.theloombafoundation.org to register online
Cruse Bereavement Care: 0844-477 9400, www.cruse.org.uk
Want has been defined by this word for the past six-and-a-half years. Her husband, The World At One presenter Nick Clarke, passed away in 2006 following a battle with cancer. ‘I was widowed at the age of 46,’ she states. ‘I still can’t quite believe it.’
She has been very open about her struggle to come to terms with her husband’s death. Her book, Why Not Me?, goes into unforgiving detail about his illness, and how she was torn apart by her loss. ‘When men are widowed, it’s sort of expected that they’ll fall apart. People rush to their aid. But I get the impression women are somehow supposed to be very brave and strong and noble.
‘Grief never goes away. I still have panic attacks when I realise I am never going to speak to Nick again.’
With International Widows Day this week, Want is keen to emphasise that along with the humanitarian efforts to help widows in developing countries, a lot still needs to be done to help those bereaved in our society. The biggest hurdle, she says, is that people are afraid to talk about it.
‘I think my friends were frightened of me when it happened, because they didn’t know what to say. Most of them disappeared.’ She describes situations where people she had known for years could not bring themselves to mention Nick’s passing. ‘If my house burnt down, I was seriously disfigured and people didn’t mention it – that would be bizarre. The depth of the impact is the same, but because you can’t see it, I sense there’s permission to avoid it.’
Want met Clarke when they both worked at the BBC in the late 1980s. They soon fell in love, marrying on a beach in Mauritius in 1991. Along with his wife, Clarke left behind their twin sons, Benedict and Joel, who are now aged 10.
‘People always say, “At least you have the children.” Of course I do and I’m so grateful for that, but at the time of being bereaved, having young children is a huge burden.’
She discovered that grief dwarfs every other emotion, even the unconditional love between parent and child. ‘For the first two years after Nick died, I was a terrible, terrible mother. I hate to admit it, but they saw me lying on the floor howling. I got furious with them when they were needy because I was so drained. The worst thing is…’ She pauses, her eyes glazing over; ‘The worst thing is, I felt at the time that I didn’t love them. As a mother, that is awful.’
She received help from a Cruse Bereavement Care counsellor (‘without whom I would not have survived’) who taught her that what she was feeling was normal. ‘She promised me that the love would return and it did. But it took a long time.’
Clarke, with his courteous interviewing style and natural charisma, was well on the way to becoming a national treasure when he died at the age of 58. ‘There’s added pain when you lose someone who is not only precious to you, but precious to lots of other people too,’ she says.
It would be easy to assume that she is romanticising her relationship, but her account is made all the more poignant by the fact that she is so realistic. ‘Oh, we used to argue all the time. It was just that sense of being with the right person. I used to think that if I were on a desert island with him for the rest of my life, we would never run out of things to talk about.’
Of course, as with any bereavement, it is not just the person that disappears. It is the hopes, the plans, even a sense of self, that is wrenched away. ‘People don’t realise how much you lose. The whole is much greater than the sum of the parts when there are two of you. And what’s left is not half, it’s a fraction.’
The responses to her book showed Want that these sentiments are universal. ‘Feeling isolated, losing your status, being alienated from friends and family, happens to everybody.’
The biggest help is having someone to talk to. ‘When you are widowed, people often remark, “I don’t know what to say.” You don’t have to find words. Just listen.’
International Widows Day, on 23 June, is a day of action to help raise awareness of the plight of widows around the world. To support IWD this year, please take part in the Loomba Foundation's 5K charity walk in Hyde Park - visit www.theloombafoundation.org to register online
Cruse Bereavement Care: 0844-477 9400, www.cruse.org.uk