The Widower

Might This Be My Last Column?

Last week marked my 102^nd weekly Substack column titled “The Widower,” about mourning and moving forward with life. That means I’ve written each week for two years, starting a few weeks after we buried my wife Cheryl’s ashes.

I appreciate the compliments I’ve received. Most important were comments from readers going through their own mourning processes who suggested that my stories hit home and helped them in some small ways.

However, I plan to pause these free weekly offerings at this point. Here’s why.

First, I enjoyed the challenge, the weekly opportunity to practice my craft of writing, and the chance to reflect and put perspective on Cheryl’s death due to Alzheimer’s complications. However, it’s surprising how fast the weeks ticked by. I tried to post a new column every Tuesday, but sometimes that day snuck up on me. Once, a Tuesday slipped past, so I posted that week’s offering on Wednesday.

My wife, Cheryl, in front of our fireplace perhaps twenty years ago.

Second, my goal was to build an audience that might show a publisher that this topic and my writing ability have a following. I hoped my readership would grow faster and faster as people in similar circumstances passed the word. However, a year ago, I had 242 subscribers. Now, I have 265. That’s not much growth in a year’s time.

Third, it’s time to move on, both as a writer and as a widower. I don’t yet know what I might write about. However, Cheryl no longer enters my thoughts throughout the day. Sure, some moments still tug the heartstrings, such as relocating the accompanying photo of Cheryl sitting in her wheelchair at a Janesville memory care facility. However, writing each week really has helped me mourn, process what happened, and move forward with life.

I found Cheryl sitting alone in her wheelchair at a Janesville memory care facility Oct. 20, 2023. The scene nearly brought me to tears.

I’m glad you’ve been along for this weekly journey. Well, most of you, anyway. As far as I know, these Substack columns will be available online indefinitely, and if you haven’t been reading each one for two years, I encourage you to look back at those you might find interesting or helpful. My topics included everything from how and why I built a support network of friends and neighbors, to the financial ramifications of placing my wife in memory care without long-term care insurance. I’ve also written about three more “pillars” to surviving this ordeal—journaling as Cheryl’s dementia grew, and bicycling and bird photography to reduce stress.

Speaking of bird photography, I’ve accumulated 106 species in the city of Janesville and have been talking about this hobby. Two more speeches are this month. The first will be at 11:45 a.m. Sunday, April 12, at Cargill United Methodist Church in here in Janesville, Wisconsin. The second will be at 1 p.m. Monday, April 27, up the road at The Gathering Place in Milton. Both talks are free and open to the public.

Regarding that journal and seeking a publisher, as I explained in a column nearly two years ago, I was building a manuscript from the journal I kept for 10 years as Cheryl descended into dementia. I hoped that, like these Substack columns, such a book might help others who are caring for loved ones with dementia. I made many embarrassing mistakes through that decade. However, I also did some things right. By getting it published, I hoped readers might learn from my errors and successes.

Last fall, the head of a Wisconsin-based publisher suggested he might be interested in publishing it if I could whittle my manuscript to 100,000 or fewer words. I expressed doubts that I could cut that much and still do the story justice. At the time, it stood at 137,000 words.

However, I’ve pared it to fewer than 99,000 words. On March 6, I submitted it to this publisher by email. I haven’t heard a word—not even an acknowledgment that it has been received. I’ll be following up in a few days with an inquiry. However, I’m thinking such is the state of publishing these days—submissions overwhelm every company.

I might submit the manuscript to one or two other companies that have published books about dementia, but I won’t spend a lot of time and effort pitching it around the country.

As I said, it’s time to move on with life.

Will I ever write another Substack as “The Widower”? Perhaps. I do have a few other ideas, and more are bound to pop up from time to time. However, it might be just as likely that this is my last column as “The Widower.”

From the bottom of my heart, thanks for reading.

Greg Peck is author of three nonfiction books, “Death Beyond the Willows,” “Memories of Marshall,” and “Snakes, Squirrels & Bears, Oh My!” All are for sale on Amazon or by reaching out to Greg, who would be happy to sign and ship copies to his readers.

In May 2023, Cheryl and I marked our 25th anniversary with a few close friends at the Janesville memory care facility where she lived. Later that month, we went for this walk at Rotary Botanical Gardens in Janesville. She died nine months later.