Sometimes It’s Just Too Much

It’s January 11, 2026, and I feel like it’s been eons since the new year began. Eleven days. It’s only been eleven days, and I’m already exhausted. Sometimes, it’s just too much.

As retired widows, we don’t always have a shoulder to cry on when it feels like we’re living in upside-down times.

I often feel like I have to hide my frustration and sadness from my family—especially my children. They need their steady, hopeful, encouraging mother to make things better. At least, I think they need me to be their rock. These are scary times, and they are scared. Mommy has always made the boogie men disappear. It’s getting harder and harder to do that.

In the past, I had my husband to lean on—and I’m sure many of you did, too. We talked, we commiserated, and then we made a unified plan for how we would face whatever problems came our way. It felt easier then. We had each other’s backs. We tackled hard times as a team.

Now, I feel like I have to do this alone.

I know my tribe is there, ready to say, “Hey! We’re here to help. Lean on us.” And I’m grateful. But it’s different. These people don’t know me the way my husband did. They don’t fully know my strengths, my fears, or my weaknesses. They don’t know when to step in—or when to step back.

Yes, I’m typing this with tears flowing.

I talk to my husband all the time. I ask him constantly if I’m doing the right thing. I look for his guidance in my next steps. I believe he hears me. I just wish he would answer—loudly and clearly. I look for signs, but sometimes I don’t know what they mean, or if I’m seeing what I want to see.

So what do I do now?

I lock myself in the bathroom and cry.
I wash my face.
I pray.
And then I get going.

I try to make logical decisions based on facts and evidence. I choose confidence. I choose to believe that I can be the strength my family needs.

I may break down for a minute—but I get back up.

Others are depending on me.
And I am depending on me.

Blessings,
Bethanne