Widows, there’s life after death

TASH Reddy radiates such unimpeachable integrity, gravity and hope in her piece titled “Lonely widows are struggling to move on” (POST, September 6-10).

Her words offer comfort and sanctuary for women in a similar situation. Her testimony proves there is life after death.

Widows have been oppressed the world over. It is desired that my input will be the catalyst for robust debate and a well-argued response.

While every religious scripture protects the widow, when is she allowed to remove the veil and get on with a new life? When does she stop mourning? Widows are judged, classed, labelled and ostracised for coming out of exile to taste a hidden dimension of life.

The death of a husband is like a shroud, strung across memories that have the power to cut and burn, whispering to you at night, mocking your tears. Sometimes the past refuses to rest.

In plotting a trajectory for a new phase in life, a woman must be allowed to make her own choices. She must not be swayed by the parameters of outside influences – in-laws, family, friends and the community. Buried dreams must be given a chance to be resurrected.

I agree that no man can take the place of a father. But a new man can offer love, hope, guidance and security.

The only people a widow has a moral responsibility to is her children. If they are young, embrace them to follow you on this new adventure. If your chickadees have grown up and flown away, concentrate on feathering your own nest but ask for their blessing.

It is a trait of society that schadenfreude will forever prevail – the veiled whispers where gossip will postulate all kinds of conjecture and innuendo.

Refrain from living an air-brushed life, hiding behind a veneer where your life and aspirations become immobilised in amber.

Don’t blame yourself for your ambivalences. You will become frustrated at times and like to think of yourself as a fish out of water and often feel guilty about keeping your gills wet. The dizzying and magical roulette of a new relationship, so rich and teasing with infinite possibilities, will always prove to be a slippery wheel as you seek your dominion.

Cinderella never asked for a prince – she asked for a night off and a dress. Shake off the cobwebs, put on a pretty dress and you might discover your prince and a whole new world out there, waiting especially for you.

KEVIN GOVENDER

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