A Widow’s Awakening was self-published as a creative non-fiction book in 2008. Over the next decade, we sold two thousand copies. However, based on the heartfelt testimonials I have received from readers over the years, I got the sense that we could reach significantly more readers by partnering with the right publisher. As such, I was thrilled when A Widow’s Awakening was picked up for publication by BHC Press.

Now that ten years have passed since the book was self-published—and nearly twenty years since John’s death—I have a few comments pertaining to some of the topics raised in the book, which may explain why I am hoping for a larger readership.

First, from an occupational health & safety perspective, since John died as the result of a preventable fall at an unsafe workplace in 2000, thousands and thousands of people have died at work, been seriously injured, or are suffering from (or succumbed to) an illness as the result of their job.

Regardless of a person’s occupation, I think everyone has the right to go home—healthy and safe—to their family at the end of their workday. Clearly, much still needs to be done to get the workplace safety message out.

Police officers, firefighters, EMS, and other emergency workers obviously have high-risk occupations. However, while working with first responders over the past twenty years—through the John Petropoulos Memorial Fund (JPMF)—I have heard this message over and over: when communities work together, there are ways to minimize these risks. If A Widow’s Awakening and the public educational initiatives of the JPMF can continue to help play a small role in helping bring about this shift in culture—where a safe and healthy workplace for all is a priority—then our efforts will have been worth it.

Second, from a grief perspective, coming to terms with the death of a loved one is a part of life. If we choose to love, we cannot escape the grieving process. But as I quickly learned when I was widowed at the age of thirty-two, one’s journey through grief is highly personal and unique. Everyone grieves differently. This may seem obvious but based on the feedback I have received from readers over the years (and the many stories I’ve been told at book signings and after my presentations), what people seem to need most, when grieving a significant loss, is simply to be heard.

What people don’t need is to be told yet another useless platitude, or be pitied, or told what they should do or how they should be feeling. Nor do people appreciate being judged on the path they are choosing as they stumble through their grieving process. One of the key grief-related messages in A Widow’s Awakening is the importance of finding someone (personal, professional or both) who can truly listen to what you are going through…not advise or judge.

From a personal perspective, although I had to swallow my pride when choosing to share the rather strange and more embarrassing components of my psychological and emotional journey, I am very glad I decided to be completely candid. Based on feedback from readers, I think my honesty helps others realize that regardless of the thoughts and feelings they are experiencing—or have experienced—it’s OK. It’s all part of the process…just as long as you don’t harm yourself or anyone else.

Which brings me to the mental health issues addressed in the book: grief, depression, confusion, isolation, loneliness, feeling completely overwhelmed, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and post-traumatic stress. Since 2008, there has been a significant increase in public awareness about mental health issues. But, as with workplace safety, there is still much work to be done to help bring about a shift in culture about the stigma surrounding mental health.

Personally, I suspect unresolved grief is, in one way or another, responsible for a significant amount of the heartache, devastation and violence we see unfolding in the world. As the old axiom goes, “As within, so without.” From multiple mass shootings to our dire environmental situation, I often wonder if the external crises we are collectively experiencing (although perhaps ignoring or denying) is partly a reflection of individual distress?

Grief is not a mental illness—at least not usually a chronic one. But the thoughts and emotions experienced during intense grief can have tragic consequences, if a person doesn’t have healthy coping mechanisms in place. But here’s the catch: when tragedy strikes—whether that’s instant, gradual or systemic—how are you supposed to have those healthy coping mechanisms in place?

Quite often, of course, you don’t. You wing it. But sometimes the life preservers we grab do more harm than good.

In my case, suicidal thoughts surfaced very quickly and unexpectedly during my “dark night of the soul” three months after John’s death. Despite having an extremely strong support network and mental health professionals at the ready, I still came dangerously close to attempting suicide.

If my experience can provide someone in distress with a glimmer of hope that things will get better, that is worth all the tears and years it took to write the book. Likewise, if the book can continue to be a useful resource for people supporting someone who is grieving, that, too, is well worth the effort of trying to reach a broader audience.

Finally, from the perspective of climate change, back in 2000 (when the real-life events in this book took place), we still had the opportunity to change course and make a serious shift away from fossil fuels as our primary energy source. We chose not to and, for the most part, continue to make that choice—despite overwhelming scientific evidence that we are rapidly running out of time before hitting the point of no return, in terms of being able to effectively cope with the ramifications of overloading our atmosphere with greenhouse gases.

As much as I care about workplace safety, emergency responders, grief, mental health, achieving dreams, writing, creativity, wolves, polar bears and so on, all of this—and so much more—will be completely irrelevant if we do not have an atmosphere that can sustain us.

—Maryanne Pope, 2018