Finding light in the darkness: Nicola’s story

December 2024

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WAY member Nicola lost her husband Dave to cancer six years ago, when she was 38. He was Christian and she is Jewish. She talks about navigating interfaith differences in life and in death – and as Hanukkah and Christmas approach, she explains why this time of year is so special for her…

“When I look back, it’s hard to believe it’s been six and a half years since Dave’s passing. He died in April 2018, nine months after he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Our son was a toddler at the time; now he’s nine. 

Me and Dave had been together for six years and we were committed to spending the rest of our lives together. Marriage was just a piece of paper. We only decided to get married after we knew his cancer was terminal. He proposed to me on Christmas Day 2017 and we planned to get married on 21 April 2018. But then we had to move the wedding forward to March because he was given just two weeks to live. We got married in the hospital with family around us. 

I was brought up in the Jewish faith and Dave’s family were Christian so we always said it was going to be a registry office wedding. I wasn’t strictly Jewish but there was no way I would have got married in a Christian church and there’s probably no way he would have got married in a synagogue. 

It felt a bit surreal coming into the hospital in a wedding dress but I always say: ‘In the darkness, we found the light’. Everyone had been miserable because Dave had been given only a few weeks to live. But when we got married, me and Dave were smiling.

When Dave died just four days later, my in-laws wanted to give him a Christian funeral. They weren’t avidly religious and Dave was spiritual rather than strictly Christian, but they wanted to do it in a Christian way and he was buried in a churchyard.

A lot of it was alien to me, and this troubled me. I felt lost, like I didn’t have a proper goodbye. And that stunted my grief. For years, I felt blocked, like I couldn’t move on. I was just numb and it was like I was watching myself.

Over the years, I had a number of bereavement counselling sessions, but we weren’t really getting anywhere. And then, last January my Rabbi came with me to Dave’s graveside and we said goodbye in a way that felt right to me. We lit a candle, said some Jewish prayers, and I spoke about him. We even played some of his favourite music. It was simple but it allowed me to say the goodbye I needed. And from that moment, the block lifted. I could move forward.

Overcoming challenges

Being a widowed parent has been hard. One thing that has helped is being really busy at work [Nicola works for a charity for people with disabilities]. But I haven’t really had time to deal with my own grief because I’ve been focusing on supporting my son, who has recently been diagnosed with autism. For years, he had terrible separation anxiety. He would cling to me every time I dropped him off at school, or anywhere. But, thankfully, that’s got a lot better.

One of the hardest things about being widowed was the financial strain. Dave didn’t have life insurance, and he’d cashed in his pension while he was ill so that we could afford to get by. I had to balance grieving, raising our son, and keeping everything running. And it was tough. I even had to turn to food banks after my Bereavement Support Payments stopped after just 18 months. Every little thing – whether it was paying the bills, running the house or looking after my son – all the worry fell on me. People around me just didn’t understand what I was going through.

I joined the bereavement support group of my local hospice but most of the people had lost parents or somebody else close to them. I’m not belittling their loss but they still had their husband or partner at home to give them support. Their way of life hadn’t changed. I am not saying their grief was any less than mine or their pain was any less, but I couldn’t relate to them. And they couldn’t relate to what I was going through. It was through the bereavement group that I found the peer support network WAY Widowed and Young.

Through WAY, I’ve made some lasting friendships. I’ve got a lot of support from people who understood what I was going through and that helped me to gain in confidence to go along to meet ups. People have that shared sense of loss. It’s helpful to see people at different stages in their grief and to see that there is life beyond this. My son has also found it helpful to meet other children who didn’t have both parents – and he’s built a connection with other children of WAY members.

Defying the darkness 

Faith has also become a bigger part of my life since Dave passed. I feel like the community has been really helpful. I’ve made some good friends. It’s like another family or another home. My Rabbi has also been really supportive.

When Dave was alive, we did the whole Christmas thing with a Christmas tree and Christmas presents and Santa and all that. But we also did Hanukkah – the Jewish Festival of Light – with the doughnuts and the candles and saying prayers. My son would have the eight presents of Hanukkah and I would enjoy seeing him open them. So even though Dave wasn’t Jewish, he still enjoyed those sort of traditions. 

This time of year is now even more significant for me. It was Dave’s birthday on Christmas Eve and he proposed to me on Christmas Day. Yes, I miss him terribly and I’m hurting but actually it’s nice to think of the happy memories and the joy in things.

I’ve always loved the quote by Leonard Cohen, ‘There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in’. It resonates with me because it reminds me that, despite the pain, there’s still light and hope. There’s another quote by Anne Frank: "Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness." 

Hanukkah commemorates the miracle of a tiny bit of oil lasting eight days instead of just one. It’s a story of survival, of overcoming adversity – it’s also significant because it’s a dark time of the year, with the nights drawing in, so the candles actually light up the darkness. As widows we have all been through so much pain and heartache, it makes me see the beauty and appreciate things even more.

 

Now my son and I celebrate both Hanukkah and Christmas. We get together with my side of the family between Christmas and New Year and we do our own little celebration, which we call ‘Christmukkah’. What Hannukah teaches me every year is that, even in the darkest of times, we can still find light.” 

What is Hanukah?

The word Hanukkah means ‘dedication’ and celebrates one of the greatest miracles in Jewish history.

Over 2,000 years ago, a small group of Jews called the Maccabees fought against a Greek ban on all Jewish rituals. After a three-year war, the Jews won. However, their temple had been destroyed.

After they had cleaned and repaired the temple, they lit an oil lamp to celebrate their victory. Although there was only enough oil to burn the candle for one day, miraculously it burned for eight days. That’s why the Hanukkah festival lasts for eight days and why light is really important in the celebration.

Jewish people say the eight branches of the menorah candlestick represent the eight days of the miracle and they light one candle for each night of Hanukkah.

The dates of Hanukkah change every year, but it will always fall in November or December and lasts for eight days. This year the start of Hanukkah coincides with Christmas Day.

Source: BBC