After his wife passed away, Wayne Antol shares about how he’s managing grief.
I am a Vietnam era Air Force Major. I’ve always been tough, stoic and prideful. It’s a role that’s served me throughout my life. But now, at age 83, it no longer defines me.
It started 13 years ago after my wife died. At first, I lied to my family and friends about how well I was handling everything. Anyone could ask, and I’d field the question with a pat response on how well I was doing in life. Except I wasn’t doing well at all. I was grieving.
Every Friday, I visited my wife’s grave to say that I loved her. As years passed, I celebrated her birthday with friends each year. I spent hours walking daily alone, sure that I was staying in shape and doing fine. I never admitted my loneliness to anyone. Time passed. A friend joined me. She saw the grief that I denied.
We’d pass the senior center, and I’d make disparaging remarks about the old people there. I couldn’t see that I was old, too. One day I went in and saw a flyer on a grief support group. I signed up. My friend encouraged me to go, but I felt resistance. I thought I could handle my grief on my own.
People laughed, cried and talked about so many things. I wasn’t sure I would return, but I did. And, those people, well, they were always there, ready to listen. Eventually, I too started talking. A lot. Soon, a closeness developed between us that sustained our weekly meetings into now, a second year.
We are friends. Now there are 17 of us and we meet every Tuesday. I’m still sad about my wife’s death, but I also am making new memories for my own life. With a Perspective, I’m Wayne Antol.
Wayne Antol is a retired Air Force Civil Engineer. He lives in Sonoma.