Moaning about relationships, or the lack of them, is de rigeur. Moaning from unwilling coupled-ups who find their partner's charms as, umm, charming as a kick on the bottom from a steel-capped boot. And more unpleasantness from the happily coupled-up who can't believe that the object of their misplaced affections yet again forgot to take out the rubbish.
And yet, there's one portion of the population that we tend to forget about as we're all busy with our bitching. Widows and widowers. You don't tend to hear much moaning from them, for the simple reason that those who suffer or need real help rarely make much noise about it. Which is why I was rather wary of meeting up with members of Minus One, a support group aimed specifically at widows and widowers. Real suffering is difficult to face up to - and without wanting to sound too tactless, I was worried that this was a place where people wallowed in their sorrows and where reliving the past was the highlight of the evening.
Boy could I have been more wrong? I turned up on a Friday evening in Floriana, which is where Minus One meetings are held on a regular basis. My first impressions were of a lively group, eager to make the most of what life offered, despite the fact that, from an outsider's point of view, perhaps said life had shortchanged them somewhat. My contact person, founder member Albert, had not yet arrived but this certainly did not stop the other members from making me feel welcome. I must confess that at this point I was rather curious - how did this support group help its members cope with everyday life after their loss? On the night I happened to be there, the whole group was keenly preparing for a quiz night, but despite the friendly rivalry and the enthusiasm I had no problem getting some members to talk to me as the others battled it out.
The first person to speak to me was Veronica Spiteri, a sprightly 46-year-old who informs me matter-of-factly that she lost her husband 11 years ago to cancer. It is obvious that Veronica has fought many a bitter inner battle and has emerged the winner.
"I don't want to talk about the past," she tells me. "Yes I still miss my husband and yes it's still painful. But I'd rather focus on how Minus One has helped me and others like me. I used to depend a lot on my husband so besides the pain of the actual loss I also had a million other things to worry about, things that he used to take care of. All of a sudden I found myself having to do it all on my own while taking care of my children to boot!
"For a while I had my mother sleep over at my house because I couldn't face the night alone. Eventually I got involved with Minus One by chance. Things started changing slowly. I found that knowing there were others who were going through the same problems as I was made it easier to cope. I asked my mother to stop coming over for the night. I became independent. It was a long journey but I finally arrived somewhere. The pain of loss was still there and will always be - but at least now I can face life while standing on my own feet," she confides.
Maria Borg, an assistant head who lost her husband two years ago, tells me a similar story. As a widow with four children aged seven to 21, life suddenly became fraught with problems both emotional and financial. Luckily for Maria, her spirit refused to just submit.
"Although I was not working before my husband's loss, within two months I had found a new job. The newly found routine meant I had less time to mope. At first life wasn't easy and I'd end up dead tired in the evening what with the work and the kids. But I got used to it fast - work gives you a good reason to get up and get on with things every morning," Maria tells me frankly.
While her newly found career removed her financial and independence problems, it did nothing to fill those long evenings on her own. Socially, her life had gone downhill ever since her husband passed away.
"I had not kept in touch with any of my old friends, which was a mistake. I had preferred to concentrate on my family. I remember that the thought hit me all of a sudden: If it had been my husband going through this instead of me, he'd have coped much better. He had his own circle of friends and went fishing with them on a regular basis. I guess it's different for men..."
The sudden realisation made Maria even more determined to turn things round. She decided that although nothing could ever replace her husband's presence, it was well worth making an effort for serenity.
"I was determined to start going out again. I remember taking my youngest son out Saturday after Saturday. We'd go to MacDonalds on our own and then I'd stay waiting with him in the car until my other children turned up for their lift back from Paceville. Anything not to stay home moping on my own."
After some time had passed Maria decided to try and attend a support group - for a variety of reasons, though, she clicked with none. Until Minus One.
"My life changed overnight. Here I found a group of people who understood my feelings perfectly because they had been through the same thing. But it wasn't just that. They were also a group of people who wanted to make something of their lives, who dressed well, who had an interest in everything that was going on. Finally I felt I belonged."
Strangely enough, the news that Maria and Veronica had found a new interest in life was not immediately welcomed by either of their families. Maria's parents insisted that her only interest should be her children. Veronica met with the same reaction. Judging by what even the other members tell me later during the evening, this is a common reaction with families. Former in-laws start worrying that their deceased son/daughter are no longer loved or remembered now that the surviving spouse is trying to enjoy life again. How do they cope? Maria shrugs and Veronica smiles. We try not to let this affect us, they tell me.
"People - and I'm not talking about family members here - can be very hurtful in these situations, sometimes without meaning to. I've had people tell me that it's better my husband died than he cheated on me. Others murmur that these support groups are tal-pogguti and nothing but an excuse to find a new partner. You get all sorts of people making all sorts of comments," Maria says.
Veronica nods her head in agreement.
"People told me exactly the same thing. Sometimes they can be downright unkind. Take my case for instance, I certainly didn't come here to find someone new to marry - that's the last thing on my mind! It doesn't mean I don't want to live and have friends like everyone else does though."
At this point Maria pipes up and with a sprightly comment puts the argument to rest.
"And if we should find someone new along the way... why then good luck to us and it's no one else's business!"
With an attitude like that, no wonder that Minus One is the perfect antidote to the unhappiness that life can throw at you sometimes.
20070303-lifestyle--widowhood2.jpgMinus One
The support group was born in 1996 as an offshoot of Ward U Zahar, a group that offers support to separated people, after it was realised that the needs of a widow weren't quite the same as those of someone who had been through a separation. After some worthy advice from Ward U Zahar, Minus One gathered some 80 members. It didn't take long for Minus One to become a group within its own right and, since 10 years ago, members meet up on a weekly basis for social activities, informative talks and general fun and games.
"The membership usually averages around 50. Most people never abandon the group even if they move on and re-build a new life. They always turn up to catch up with us every so often," Albert told me.
What makes this group different from others is also the fact that, to put it flippantly, you don't need to be the holder of a KartAnZjan to feel that you belong. Being widowed at a young age is tough not only for the obvious reasons, but also for the fact that you feel you are in a minority. At Minus One some members are still in their early 30s. Sad though this may be, it does afford a degree of solace to those who lost their loved one at a young age.
"Some of our present members had already been to other support groups and, human nature being what it is, confessed to feeling a bit like a fish out of water due to the advanced age group of other members. This is said with no disrespect to those who are widowed later in life - their suffering is nonetheless real but obviously the two different groups have significantly different needs. At Minus One we take into account that a good number of members are still raising very young children, sometimes infants," Albert continued.
Such as Joyce, who was widowed aged 34, when her child was but three years old. Today 10 years have gone by and I can see that Joyce still finds it difficult to talk about it. However, I can also see that Minus One helped give her the courage and the confidence necessary to continue with life. She herself is the first to say that the fact that there were other women her own age helped no end. Today, her child is a teenager and no longer attends group meetings on a weekly basis, but even after all this time, Joyce still finds it gives her strength.
Activities at Minus One range from picnics to quizzes, Mass, birthday celebrations and more. Refreshingly, there is no harping on the past - instead everyone shares their present experiences and how they're coping with whatever life throws at them. While I'm there I notice that quite a number of members have their kids with them.
"Yes, that's encouraged. After all, the children are going through an equally tough time and need all the support they can get. Here they meet other children who are going through the same things. It's very common to hear newly bereaved kids say they hate going to school because they're the only ones with a missing parent. When they're here they don't feel different. And we all have fun together, that's the important thing," Albert explained.
• The Minus One support group can be reached by calling 2143 4300 or e-mail info@minusone.eu or writing to P.O. Box 21, Mosta.
And yet, there's one portion of the population that we tend to forget about as we're all busy with our bitching. Widows and widowers. You don't tend to hear much moaning from them, for the simple reason that those who suffer or need real help rarely make much noise about it. Which is why I was rather wary of meeting up with members of Minus One, a support group aimed specifically at widows and widowers. Real suffering is difficult to face up to - and without wanting to sound too tactless, I was worried that this was a place where people wallowed in their sorrows and where reliving the past was the highlight of the evening.
Boy could I have been more wrong? I turned up on a Friday evening in Floriana, which is where Minus One meetings are held on a regular basis. My first impressions were of a lively group, eager to make the most of what life offered, despite the fact that, from an outsider's point of view, perhaps said life had shortchanged them somewhat. My contact person, founder member Albert, had not yet arrived but this certainly did not stop the other members from making me feel welcome. I must confess that at this point I was rather curious - how did this support group help its members cope with everyday life after their loss? On the night I happened to be there, the whole group was keenly preparing for a quiz night, but despite the friendly rivalry and the enthusiasm I had no problem getting some members to talk to me as the others battled it out.
The first person to speak to me was Veronica Spiteri, a sprightly 46-year-old who informs me matter-of-factly that she lost her husband 11 years ago to cancer. It is obvious that Veronica has fought many a bitter inner battle and has emerged the winner.
"I don't want to talk about the past," she tells me. "Yes I still miss my husband and yes it's still painful. But I'd rather focus on how Minus One has helped me and others like me. I used to depend a lot on my husband so besides the pain of the actual loss I also had a million other things to worry about, things that he used to take care of. All of a sudden I found myself having to do it all on my own while taking care of my children to boot!
"For a while I had my mother sleep over at my house because I couldn't face the night alone. Eventually I got involved with Minus One by chance. Things started changing slowly. I found that knowing there were others who were going through the same problems as I was made it easier to cope. I asked my mother to stop coming over for the night. I became independent. It was a long journey but I finally arrived somewhere. The pain of loss was still there and will always be - but at least now I can face life while standing on my own feet," she confides.
Maria Borg, an assistant head who lost her husband two years ago, tells me a similar story. As a widow with four children aged seven to 21, life suddenly became fraught with problems both emotional and financial. Luckily for Maria, her spirit refused to just submit.
"Although I was not working before my husband's loss, within two months I had found a new job. The newly found routine meant I had less time to mope. At first life wasn't easy and I'd end up dead tired in the evening what with the work and the kids. But I got used to it fast - work gives you a good reason to get up and get on with things every morning," Maria tells me frankly.
While her newly found career removed her financial and independence problems, it did nothing to fill those long evenings on her own. Socially, her life had gone downhill ever since her husband passed away.
"I had not kept in touch with any of my old friends, which was a mistake. I had preferred to concentrate on my family. I remember that the thought hit me all of a sudden: If it had been my husband going through this instead of me, he'd have coped much better. He had his own circle of friends and went fishing with them on a regular basis. I guess it's different for men..."
The sudden realisation made Maria even more determined to turn things round. She decided that although nothing could ever replace her husband's presence, it was well worth making an effort for serenity.
"I was determined to start going out again. I remember taking my youngest son out Saturday after Saturday. We'd go to MacDonalds on our own and then I'd stay waiting with him in the car until my other children turned up for their lift back from Paceville. Anything not to stay home moping on my own."
After some time had passed Maria decided to try and attend a support group - for a variety of reasons, though, she clicked with none. Until Minus One.
"My life changed overnight. Here I found a group of people who understood my feelings perfectly because they had been through the same thing. But it wasn't just that. They were also a group of people who wanted to make something of their lives, who dressed well, who had an interest in everything that was going on. Finally I felt I belonged."
Strangely enough, the news that Maria and Veronica had found a new interest in life was not immediately welcomed by either of their families. Maria's parents insisted that her only interest should be her children. Veronica met with the same reaction. Judging by what even the other members tell me later during the evening, this is a common reaction with families. Former in-laws start worrying that their deceased son/daughter are no longer loved or remembered now that the surviving spouse is trying to enjoy life again. How do they cope? Maria shrugs and Veronica smiles. We try not to let this affect us, they tell me.
"People - and I'm not talking about family members here - can be very hurtful in these situations, sometimes without meaning to. I've had people tell me that it's better my husband died than he cheated on me. Others murmur that these support groups are tal-pogguti and nothing but an excuse to find a new partner. You get all sorts of people making all sorts of comments," Maria says.
Veronica nods her head in agreement.
"People told me exactly the same thing. Sometimes they can be downright unkind. Take my case for instance, I certainly didn't come here to find someone new to marry - that's the last thing on my mind! It doesn't mean I don't want to live and have friends like everyone else does though."
At this point Maria pipes up and with a sprightly comment puts the argument to rest.
"And if we should find someone new along the way... why then good luck to us and it's no one else's business!"
With an attitude like that, no wonder that Minus One is the perfect antidote to the unhappiness that life can throw at you sometimes.
20070303-lifestyle--widowhood2.jpgMinus One
The support group was born in 1996 as an offshoot of Ward U Zahar, a group that offers support to separated people, after it was realised that the needs of a widow weren't quite the same as those of someone who had been through a separation. After some worthy advice from Ward U Zahar, Minus One gathered some 80 members. It didn't take long for Minus One to become a group within its own right and, since 10 years ago, members meet up on a weekly basis for social activities, informative talks and general fun and games.
"The membership usually averages around 50. Most people never abandon the group even if they move on and re-build a new life. They always turn up to catch up with us every so often," Albert told me.
What makes this group different from others is also the fact that, to put it flippantly, you don't need to be the holder of a KartAnZjan to feel that you belong. Being widowed at a young age is tough not only for the obvious reasons, but also for the fact that you feel you are in a minority. At Minus One some members are still in their early 30s. Sad though this may be, it does afford a degree of solace to those who lost their loved one at a young age.
"Some of our present members had already been to other support groups and, human nature being what it is, confessed to feeling a bit like a fish out of water due to the advanced age group of other members. This is said with no disrespect to those who are widowed later in life - their suffering is nonetheless real but obviously the two different groups have significantly different needs. At Minus One we take into account that a good number of members are still raising very young children, sometimes infants," Albert continued.
Such as Joyce, who was widowed aged 34, when her child was but three years old. Today 10 years have gone by and I can see that Joyce still finds it difficult to talk about it. However, I can also see that Minus One helped give her the courage and the confidence necessary to continue with life. She herself is the first to say that the fact that there were other women her own age helped no end. Today, her child is a teenager and no longer attends group meetings on a weekly basis, but even after all this time, Joyce still finds it gives her strength.
Activities at Minus One range from picnics to quizzes, Mass, birthday celebrations and more. Refreshingly, there is no harping on the past - instead everyone shares their present experiences and how they're coping with whatever life throws at them. While I'm there I notice that quite a number of members have their kids with them.
"Yes, that's encouraged. After all, the children are going through an equally tough time and need all the support they can get. Here they meet other children who are going through the same things. It's very common to hear newly bereaved kids say they hate going to school because they're the only ones with a missing parent. When they're here they don't feel different. And we all have fun together, that's the important thing," Albert explained.
• The Minus One support group can be reached by calling 2143 4300 or e-mail info@minusone.eu or writing to P.O. Box 21, Mosta.