Flying Alone to Camp Widow
Estimated reading time: 0 minutes, 42 seconds
I have never liked the word widow. It is better than widower but does not describe who or how I am.
But today, for the first time since COVID, I am flying across the continental US to attend Camp Widow.
Perhaps for seventy-two hours, I will need to smile and accept being called a widow.
Flying alone should be no different than living alone.
Perhaps I will fly high enough to blow a kiss to Jan.
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Am I Still Married or Am I Widowed?
Am I still married, or am I widowed? is a question that I mull over.
Most of my family and friends never think about it as they are sure I am a widow, and they based this on the legal and religious definition of marriage only lasting "till death do us part."
I always believed Jan and I were married for eternity when we met.
