<p><strong><em>A conversation with self-proclaimed mediocre widow, Catherine Tidd</em></strong></p><p>On the morning of June 16, 2007, Bradley Tidd kissed his sleeping wife, Catherine, goodbye and went to work. The couple’s three young children were deep in their own slumber.</p><p>“It was all so normal,” says Catherine. Until the phone rang.</p><p>She was too groggy to answer, but a minute later she checked the caller ID and saw it was Penrose Hospital. Brad had been in a bad car accident, they told her. He had a badly dislocated knee and broken ribs.</p><p>Though shaken by the news, Catherine knew it could have been far worse. Her relief wouldn’t last; Brad suffered a stroke that killed him days later.</p><p>Catherine Tidd spent her 11th anniversary planning her husband’s funeral. <em>Confessions of a Mediocre Widow: Or, How I Lost My Husband and My Sanity</em> (Sourcebooks, 2015) is Tidd’s account of young widowhood—she was 31 when Brad died and had three children under the age of six and no job or “life skills” to live in this altered world.</p><p>She talked with ESME’s Nancy Sharp about motherhood, <a href="https://esme.com/resources/c/bereavement" target="_blank" class="wordlink">grief</a>, and recovery. Truly, this is a sad story, but like Tidd’s life, it’s teeming with refreshingly dark humor.</p><p><strong>Sharp</strong><strong>:</strong> Was humor a coping mechanism for you?</p><p><strong>Tidd:</strong> Not all the time. But sometimes life can feel so badly that you just have to laugh. We have a warped sense of humor in my family, and Brad was one of the funniest people I knew. When I set out to write this book I wanted to be a friend on the page so that others wouldn’t feel so alone.</p><p><strong>Sharp</strong><strong>:</strong> You talk a lot about the absurdity of preserving normalcy and how, for instance, your Southern mother drilled into you that thank-you notes were to be written whether someone donated a dandelion or a diamond to the memorial fund established for your children.</p><p><strong>Tidd:</strong> I was obsessed with those thank-you notes! Here it was that life crashed around me, and all I could think about was sending timely acknowledgments. Today I tell people in this situation, “Don’t worry about sending a thank-you card.” I really mean that.</p><p><strong>Sharp: </strong>Right away you began tackling house and to-do projects to busy yourself and perhaps take back some of the control you’d lost after Brad died. What did you learn from these experiences?</p><p><strong>Tidd</strong><strong>:</strong> That you can’t outrun grief. I didn’t allow my sadness to show. I wouldn’t come undone for many months after Brad died. Not until my sister said, “Catherine, you have not stopped.” She was right. All of a sudden, I sat down. It was harder . . . though necessary.</p><p><strong>Sharp</strong><strong>:</strong> How old are your children today, and what remains the biggest challenge about single <a href="https://esme.com/resources/c/parenting" target="_blank" class="wordlink">parenting</a>?</p><p><strong>Tidd:</strong> They’re 13, 11, and 9. We’re getting ready to move, leaving the house where we lived as a family. Decisions are hardest for me. Like right now, I’d love a partner to help coordinate the inspection list. It’s all on me. This is the longest time I’ve ever lived alone. When I meet a man who’s willing to watch <em>The Golden Girls</em> with me at 10 p.m., I’ll know he’s the one.</p><p><strong>Sharp:</strong> What’s next for you?</p><p><strong>Tidd:</strong> I developed a business directory at my<a href="http://www.thewiddahood.com/" target="_blank"> Widdahood</a> website to help widows and others find resources like estate planners, therapists, realtors, and jobs. Access is free. I wish that I had such information in the early days after Brad died.</p><p><img style="display: block; margin: auto;" src="/assets/img/cms/redactor/qnAudZj817eaoAKk.jpg" alt=""></p>
