Widowhood is a Process, Not an Identity
Grief is like being “concussed, or slightly drunk”, C.S Lewis mused. It is, he added, an “invisible blanket between the world and me… her absence is like the sky, spread over everything”. Imagining marriage as one ship, C.S. Lewis wrote, “the starboard engine has gone. I, the port engine, must chug along somehow till we make harbour. Or rather, till the journey ends.” Vulnerable and mourning the loss of his wife, ...











