If I had no sense of humor, I would have long ago committed suicide.
I love Gandhi. Were he alive today, I’d go out for a latte with him in a heartbeat. He obviously knew the value of laughter in the face of tragedy, and I’ll bet he was more fun to be with than 85 percent of the men I’ve dated since my husband died.
Welcome, dear reader, to the world of widowhood.
“Whoever you are, you write very well. Sadly, I’m too old, too short, and too far away. Plus my subscription expires in a few hours. Oh well, it was still a great read….”
Match.com guy in Pennsylvania, 2005
In the happily-ever-after fairy tale version of my life, I was married to my loving, sensitive, silly, charming, funny, and handsome college sweetheart, Drew. Unfortunately, he left us nine years, one state, three pet rodents, and two houses ago.
“Sandi Amorello’s The Irreverent Widow is a laugh-till-you-cry, cry-till- you-laugh memoir that offers advice on grieving, single parenting, dating, and sex after 40, not to mention etiquette and a whole lot of wisdom on life. Sandi’s hilarious and unapologetic truth-telling is inspiring and instructive. Most certainly not for widows only.”
Jane Pollak, author
Being widowed is not fun. It has, however, turned out to be rather funny at times. In between the tears, that is. One day you’re going along, trying to survive the day-to-day challenges of raising three little children with a man you’ve loved forever. The next day you’re logged onto Match.com at one a.m., getting emails from men who want to drink merlot on the beach with you and give you a back rub. Men with screen names like The Gregster and BetrayedAgain. Men who might have restraining orders against them. Dear God.
“I am certain the book you eventually write will make the best-seller list—so I will need a signed copy when it comes out.”
C., Match.com, 2004
As you may already know, life doesn’t always go quite as we plan.
My stories contain a lot of humor. For me, a sense of humor and creativity is what has saved me from nine years of antidepressants, potential alcoholism, and possible child abandonment.
“…With humor, irreverence, and an unquenchable life force, Sandi Amorello shares the truths she learns about grief, single parenting, and allowing love back in her life. The Irreverent Widow is an honest and upbeat story that will reassure anyone who grieves, or has ever grieved, that healing and happiness do lie ahead.”
Jessica Bram, author,
Happily Ever After Divorce:
Notes of a Joyful Journey
I’m not going to get all preachy, or tell you that a religious figure appeared to me in a dream with the secret to “speed-grieving.” I’m merely here to share with you my own quirky stories: tales of loss, love, lust, death, devastation, desperation, frustration, tears, romance, adventure, laughter, heartache, probable insanity… and a few fleeting moments of what appear to be some brand of possible enlightenment.
I am here to share with you truths about grief, single-parenting, and midlife courtship that most women would never share. Or admit. I’ll tell you things that would make your therapist shake her head in shock and dismay. But, hey, did your therapist walk behind her husband’s casket, flanked by her three young children recently?
“This is the kind of book that you wish you had when you were in college, full of things you wish your wise, worldly best friend had told you before you started dating in earnest. The Irreverent Widow is not just for the widowed but for all who are dating (men included—in fact, men in particular), and maybe even those who aren’t. Sandi covers the universal themes of forgiveness, consideration (and quite a lot of the lack thereof: who gives a bereaved family four slices—less than half—of a $2.50 jelly roll along with potato-chip-encrusted chicken leftovers as part of their we’re-trying-to-help-you-by-making-dinner-for-you-while- you’re-mourning dinner?), and love, from the perspective of someone who has known real love and is confident enough in herself to share self-deprecating, sometimes downright embarrassing stories that will cause you to alternate between sobbing and erupting in actual out-loud, spit-your-drink-out laughter. Share this book with all of your friends. All of them. They’ll thank you for it.”
Amy McCoy, author, The Poor Girl Gourmet
Now that I have made it this far, and no longer own stock in the company that makes Kleenex, I am hoping I can inspire someone else, to assure you that you’re not the only one who might be lying in bed alone at night, reading cheesy self-help books, thinking, There must be someone who understands—and isn’t so damned depressing!
“Wow, Mom! I’m so proud of you! So…are we making any money yet?”
Holden Amorello, skeptic, 2008
Because if we’re not here to help one another, then what’s it all about, really?