Hello Davina diaries, it’s my pleasure to write in and share my widowhood story. My name is Lois and I recently got introduced to this blog. My husband passed on last year and it was painful in so many aspects.
I met Charles when I was an apprentice in a fashion school. He came to have some clothes made for a wedding. I took his measurement and he asked for my number later. I didn’t think anything of it but he maintained contact. We dated for about a year before he told me he wanted to marry me which I was happy about because our love had grown. However we met with stiff resistance from his sisters and mother.
My husband was the youngest child of his mother and he came when she was probably in her forties because his immediate elder sibling was ten years older than he was. His sisters were all married and one in particular took him as her own son. I wondered why they didn’t like me because my home town is not even far from theirs. I never knew they were a diabolic bunch.
The truth is, I nearly backed out of the marriage but my husband insisted that I was the one.
Eventually the wedding held and for a moment our differences were put aside. Charles was a caring and loving husband to me. He was a provider even with his little income. I quickly got a shop close to my house for my tailoring business.
As good as Charles was to me, he still depended on his sisters for advice. He always ran his plans by them even after we had discussed. I didn’t like this and it led to a lot of our quarrels.
Anytime we showed up for a family occasion, his sisters would look at me and say that my husband was spending all his money on me and giving them nothing. They picked quarrels with me but I tried to manage it.
I started getting serious with God and tried to bring Charles along as much as possible.
Shortly before my husband died, he became secretive. We had discussed moving to a bigger apartment because of our children but he suddenly began to dodge questions in that direction.
Then he took seriously ill. I took him to hospitals but they couldn’t find anything wrong through the tests and He became bed ridden. It was then that he opened up to me on a number of things he had been doing.
He had been sending huge sums of money to his siblings to build a house in the village. I never even knew my husband had such amounts of money; we never discussed building any house in the village. He died after three weeks of being bedridden.
Life after widowhood
I was blamed for his death. They came into our tiny apartment and picked anything that made sense to them, they demanded five goats from me to continue burial arrangements. It was my church members that rallied around me to support me.
I hid my husband’s ATM card which he had been forced to give me before he died, as I needed to pay for his treatments. I was shocked to see such huge sums in his account and yet we didn’t even give our children treats because we were ‘saving for a better apartment’. So much to learn from it.
I have moved from that apartment to another location and completely cut ties with my in laws. This has been my widowhood story thanks.
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