She looks happy. The grief is still there.

Rosie Moss has built a beautiful life, raised three children she adores and created a career she loves. She is also still grieving the husband she lost eight and a half years ago.

Both things are true.

In this episode, Rosie explains the hidden duality of widowhood: the joy that people can find uncomfortable in the early days, the pain they stop noticing years later, and the smallest moments that can suddenly bring everything rushing back.

Rosie’s husband, Ben, died in a scuba-diving accident, but his body was never found. She shares what it means to live with grief without closure, why part of the mind continues to ask “what if?”, and how moving forward is not the same as moving on.

We also discuss alcohol and grief, Rosie’s journey into sobriety, solo parenting after sudden loss, raising grieving children, late-diagnosed autism and ADHD, widow’s fire and the shame surrounding it, and why another relationship cannot erase the grief of losing your partner.

Rosie also offers practical advice on how to support someone who is grieving, why saying “let me know if you need anything” places an impossible burden on them, and the small acts of kindness that can remain with somebody for years.

This is an honest and deeply human conversation about widowhood, ambiguous loss, sobriety, parenting through grief and learning to let happiness return without leaving the person you loved behind.

Find Rosie and Widowed AF:

Podcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/widowed-af-real-stories-of-love-grief-and-beyond/id1664731014

Website: https://www.widowedaf.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/widowed_af/

Rosie, you've described widowhood as a life of duality, genuine joy alongside grief that nobody sees.

What is it like to live with both of those realities at once?

Gosh, that's an interesting question.

I suppose it's a bit like that kind of Jekyll and Hyde split personality almost, because there is a part of me that eight and a half years into my grief is, you know, I am happy, I've got a beautiful, glorious life, I've got amazing children, I've got a career I love.

But at the bottom of that, you know, just beneath it all, is always this real sadness.

And actually, I can give you a really good example of that.

This morning I was sat out in the garden and my daughter came out and she said to me, mum, when Daddy went diving, if I was poorly, would he have gone?

Now, for context, my husband died in a scuba diving accident and my daughter was six months old.

And I just said to her, sweetheart, you couldn't have stopped him.

And I just burst into tears because there, you know, underpinning everything that we have is still that question of what if, you know, could I have done more?

And to think that my little girl, who's only, well, she's nine in a couple of weeks, but she's eight years old, to think that she is still thinking now, could I have done more?

You know, gosh, you were, baby, darling, you couldn't have done anything.

So I think that that kind of is a really good example of how you can be going about your business, living your life, and then suddenly there's like that kind of smack to the solar plexus and you're hurtled back into the disbelief, the horror, the sadness of it all.

Do you think that that what if question is something that you can ever sort of move on from fully?

I don't know.

And I think perhaps my circumstances are kind of unique because there is the uncertainty.

The body, or his body was never found.

I don't like saying the body.

It sounds really kind of, I don't know, lacking in compassion.

But Ben has never been found.

So I suppose again, at the back of our minds there is that little bit of what if?

You know, what if he is still out there?

We know on an intellectual, realistic level that he's not.

But the brain doesn't work like that.

It will cling on to any sort of hope and possibility.

Out of the two realities that both sort of are in your life, that actual, genuine happiness that you do find and you have managed to find again, but that grief that does crop up every now and then.

When those things happen, do you think there's one of them that the outside world finds harder to accept?

Yeah, yeah, absolutely.

And I would say, you know, your automatic assumption might be that it's the grief, that it's the ugly, messy side of you, but I would say in the earlier days, it's the joy and the happiness that people find unpalatable.

You feel very self conscious and very aware of how the outside world might perceive you.

I can remember, you know, really debating with myself whether I was okay to put makeup on because did it look like I was disrespecting him?

However, fast forward to now, eight and a half years in, I think I, I quite consciously dampen down my, my sadness and my pain because rightly or wrongly, I feel that people perhaps won't have the same empathy or compassion for it because, you know, look, you know, I, I look like I'm doing all right.

It's been a long time and I think unless you have experienced a really significant loss, loss of a partner, a parent at a young age, or, you know, got a bit of child, or you can't really understand, and I certainly didn't, how long the impact of the grief would last.

And I think that's kind of one of the things that I want to do really is make other people aware of the fact that, yeah, it does still really hurt.

And actually if you could find it in yourself to send a message on the anniversary or, you know, remember my wedding anniversary, things like that, things that, you know, for somebody, they don't take a huge amount of effort, but they mean an awful lot to a person that's grieving.

So like over the timeline of events, I suppose at the start the grief is more accepted socially because of that.

It's like you should, you should be.

Grieving where you're black.

Yeah.

And then over a certain amount of time, whatever time that is, once you start to sort of get your life back together and start looking okay on the outside, people are then thinking, well, you're through it now.

Why are you still.

What's the matter with you?

Grieving?

Yeah.

And it's a weird, like at some point, but yeah, that stuff does stay with you.

And there's always going to be things.

I spoke to someone who said that music is a time machine, but I think so many things are a time machine.

These things that, whether it's a song, whether it's a, a location, whether it's a smell, these things can pull you back into something.

Absolutely.

From the Past.

And it's like this morning, that question that your daughter puts you.

It's like things like that would just pull you back in.

So you have to be still open as someone from the outside.

Yeah.

Do you think that there's a point where people see you starting to do a bit better and then maybe give themselves like a.

Okay, she threw it like she doesn't need me much anymore.

And they sort of give themselves.

What's the word?

Permission.

Permission.

That's it.

Yeah.

Permission to stop checking in on you as much.

Yeah, yeah, absolutely.

So one of the things I think that really fast forwards that impact is if you were to get into another relationship because people do really think, oh, you know, well, she must be over it because she's formed another relationship, so she can't possibly be grieving her dead husband.

And actually the reality of that is very different.

I myself have been in a long term relationship.

I'm single now, if there's any eligible bachelors out there.

But I very much felt that people went, oh, you know, right, wash our hands of that.

She's all sorted out now.

And actually when that relationship ended, I realized that it'd almost been like a bit of a sticking plaster over the grief and it all came tumbling out again.

So you're like, hang on a minute, you know, even I, with my knowledge of how grief works, I'm like, steady on.

Do I have to be kind of this acutely grieving this far in?

So even for me, even with the work I do with other people who've been widowed, it still takes me by surprise sometimes.

When that second relationship broke down, did that bring up the initial grief of losing Ben or was it a whole different type of loss?

I think it's twofold.

So when Ben died, I was, I was drinking very heavily, you know, as.

As one might really, in this situation.

But what I've since learned is how much alcohol masks the grief.

So you might feel like you're grieving, but actually if you're doing it whilst you're drunk, you're kind of only chipping the surface.

So by the time this second relationship ended, I was in.

I was, you know, committed to my sobriety.

And so I hadn't got that buffer.

And what I found was everything felt so very raw and it brought back a lot of feelings of kind of abandonment, you know, fear.

Actually, let's.

Fear is actually not strong enough.

Like bone terror.

How am I going to survive?

How am I going to put food on the table?

How am I going to protect these babies?

Because I know they're not babies anymore, but they'll always be my babies.

You know, how am I going to protect them from this.

This second loss of a.

Of a father figure?

Because by the time we separated, he was.

And having to, you know, throughout.

When Ben died, I was able to say to my children, you know, your dad didn't choose to leave you.

There's no way he'd have left you ever.

And then when a parental figure does choose to not want contact with them anymore, that's a very different grief, but it is still grief.

And.

And I think for the children, particularly for my daughter, who was only six months when Ben died, this actually probably hit her harder because it was.

And it will have tapped into a grief that she couldn't identify.

What was your framing around that for yourself?

Like, we.

We often talk to ourselves like our.

Like our enemies to ourselves.

We're really harsh internally.

Things that we say to ourselves in our mind, we would not say to anyone out loud in that moment.

Was there any part of you that, like, blamed yourself for that second loss?

Yeah.

Yeah, a hundred percent, Sam.

One hundred percent.

And I battled with the.

The grief and the guilt and the shame of that.

And it was, I suppose, a bit of a realization that actually.

And we know this again, we know this on an intellectual level that happy mothers make better parents.

Mothers trapped in unhappy marriages or relationships don't make us good parents.

And that because they're not happy themselves, we know this.

But I still felt like I was responsible for it, like I was bringing this trauma to their door and that, you know, that.

Should I have laid myself on that maternal altar and, you know, sacrifice myself to maintain the status quo for them?

And I did.

I went back and forth over this for a long time.

It wasn't a snap decision, but ultimately, yes.

The first few months were rocky and turbulent, and I noticed, you know, issues with my daughter's behavior and attachment, and we just.

And again, it's quite reminiscent of when Ben died.

The four of us just kind of metaphorically clung to each other, and we got through it, you know, heads down into the storm.

Let's go.

And what happened was within a few months, maybe six months, maybe even a year, we kind of look around with, actually, it was the right thing to do.

We are happier.

We are safer.

We do feel more stable.

And we're about to embark on the next chapter of our journey together, which is to move house.

It'll be, I hate this term, but my forever home.

I'm coming out about house, feet First I tell you I'm never moving house again.

But it's all.

Sometimes difficult things lead to better outcomes.

But it did take a lot of soul searching to do that.

What would you say to someone or what would you say to yourself if you could go back and speak to that person in that moment?

Oh, gosh, are we talking the sep after the separation?

Yeah, yeah, let's go with that one first, because it's that.

On that self talk.

Yeah.

If someone was being like that to themselves, what would you say?

I. I think I would probably say that, you know, you are doing the right thing.

Your gut is telling you you're doing the right thing.

You know, you are because you wouldn't be even thinking about throwing this grenade into your life otherwise.

You, you know, that's not the sort of thing you do on a whim.

And it would just be to trust yourself, trust your instincts, trust your.

Trust your capabilities.

You know, it's even things like I felt quite infantilized again because I'd been quite looked after.

You know, I'd gone from my marriage and then relatively quickly into another relationship where, you know, I was cared for and supported.

And suddenly you're thinking, shit, you know, I don't know how to change Internet providers and, you know, all these sorts of really kind of stupid little things.

But those are the things that will keep you trapped because if you let them overwhelm you, think, oh, no, that's too, too difficult, too difficult.

I'll stay with the status quo.

So I think it would just be, you know, and again, it sounds a bit icky, but you are, you are more capable than you believe you are.

Just keep going.

Yeah.

You mentioned about alcohol and how you were using that to potentially avoid the grieving process initially.

What was it that alcohol was helping you avoid and what should that process have looked like for you?

Yeah, so I've, I mean, tracking back through my life, I've always had a dependence on alcohol.

I'm.

I was late diagnosed with autism and ADHD as a.

In my early 40s.

And whilst I'm not trying to excuse my bad behavior, we know that there's a very strong correlation between undiagnosed or late diagnosis and alcohol or drug dependence.

So I used it as a tool to really help me blend into a world that I felt I didn't really belong in.

And of course, when you're in your, your late teens, your 20s, everybody's getting drunk all the time.

Right.

It's normal.

And then, you know, I had the children, obviously, things Tapered a little bit, but I still like to drink.

And I really had no breaks when it came to it.

So I guess I was what you would term a binge drinker.

I wasn't drinking every single day, but I was drinking too excess when I did drink, and then when Ben died, of course.

What do we do in this country when there's anything.

Anything good happens, but also anything bad happens, we throw booze at the situation, don't we?

People would bring wine and, you know very well meaning of them, and essentially without the kind of stabilizing effect of having my husband there, despite the fact my children were there, which I've dealt with, the shame associated with this.

But I would drink very heavily from the point they went to bed until I passed out because I couldn't sleep.

And I was terrified of sleep because I knew what would happen when I closed my eyes.

So in a way, it gave me respite.

It gave me a little bit of a protection and a buffer.

And I now know that when you go through a trauma, you will go back and use whatever coping mechanism has helped you in the past.

So it definitely.

It weirdly enabled me to function, so.

Which is kind of counterintuitive really, but it definitely masked things.

And I can remember getting some counseling for one of my children, and the counselor said to me, what about you?

Are you having counseling?

I was like, no, no, no.

That Pandora's box is staying closed for now.

And I just think it gave me what I needed at the time to function, but it began to take more than it gave.

And since I've been off the boost four and a half years now, so I feel quite, quite kind of settled in my sobriety.

I don't think you ever get complacent.

I think that's.

That would be a risky place to be.

But, yeah, it.

It hurt.

Like, it really hurt, the having to do the grieving.

And I could absolutely see why people would give it a go, think, oh, my God, that's too scary, and pick up the bottle.

And there's been times I've been close, but I'm a stubborn old thing.

So.

Credit to you, though, that's.

That's really, really good as well.

Was there a point where you looked at it and realized that something needed to change?

Yeah, they needed to go sober.

Yeah.

I'll tell you what.

I know the exact day it was my daughter's birthday and we'd had a party, and as always, I was.

I loved host a party, and I think I really love to host A party party, because it gave you an excuse to have a drink, right?

So we had some, you know, fizzy wine and.

And beers and stuff, and.

And I was drinking from midday and I realized I had no recollection of this party.

Nothing.

I didn't remember it.

And I think that was quite scary because I thought, oh, God, there were people there from nursery, you know, there were other mother, you know.

Oh.

And I just thought, I. Ben's not here.

He's not here to.

To remember all these things.

I'm here.

Like, I almost have an obligation to be present, and I want to be present.

I. I think.

I think it was.

It took me that long, and this sounds really, really sad, but I think it took me that long to realize I wanted to keep living rather than existing.

And I couldn't keep living if I was going to keep drinking the way I was.

I was either going to.

Something terrible was going to happen, I was going to either get sick or I was going to do something awful and, you know, devastating, and I was going to destroy this life that I'd managed to, you know, drag myself back to, and I didn't want that.

You've spoken about and written about how when you're grieving you.

You're still missing that life that you're meant to have, that future.

And I think obviously when people died, like older age, you can sort of look back on their life and you can think about all the times, but when someone dies at a younger age, you have that feeling of looking ahead and like the future that never was sort of thing.

How do you grieve that future that you never, never got a chance to have?

I don't know that you ever fully do.

I think you.

But yeah, you're right.

It's that, you know, you're grieving what you had and the past and the memories that you made together.

But you also, when you're a relatively young couple, you've got plans, right?

You've got dreams, you've got aspirations, you've got hopes.

And they might be really quite simple things like, you know, like, for example, you know, my daughter starting her first day of school.

You anticipate that the two of you will be involved in that.

I mean, I immediately started projecting forward and thinking things like, well, who's going to walk her down the aisle?

I mean, you know, that's a reach, isn't it?

Who even knows if marriage will be a thing when she's of an age?

But you.

You start to.

I guess there's an element of Perhaps even romanticizing the future.

You know, you picture the future in its rose tinted glory.

You don't think about the times you would have argued over whose turn it was to feed the baby or put the bins out.

But you do have to let go.

You have to really let go.

And there was, you know, there's a term I like and it's, you know that you, you, the path that you were walking on doesn't exist anymore.

Like that, that's closed, that road is closed, so you gotta take another one.

And it's kind of up to you what you make of it.

And you can spend the rest of your life being really angry and bitter that you couldn't take the path to the left.

Or you can kind of go, all right, well, actually there's some quite nice scenery on this route.

Let's, let's give it a go and embrace it.

But that is a really difficult thing to do when you're in early and very acute grief.

That definitely, that is definitely something that comes with time.

Experiencing that, that loss of a future, has it changed your, the way you live now?

So has it made you more present in how you live life now?

Yeah, yeah, definitely.

And it's made me take risks.

And I don't necessarily mean unhealthy risks, although there were certainly a fair few of those in the early days.

But things, you know, starting a podcast, like, who does that when they're grieving?

You know, it.

I had no, no experience of broadcasting, no experience of, you know, even the tech side of things, microphones, all that, no clue whatsoever.

And I just thought, oh, do you know what?

Everyone's doing a podcast.

This looks fun.

I'm going to have a go at this.

And I just wouldn't have done that before.

I wouldn't have done, I would have, I would have led a much more, I suppose, like a more traditional, conventional family life.

I had a career, but I'd put it on hold to be a stay at mum, which never in a million years thought that's what I choose to do.

But I, I loved it.

I loved being with my kids.

And widowhood is, widowhood has kind of taken that luxury away.

I don't really have the option to just be a stay at home mum now.

So it's kind of forced me to take risks, chances, grab opportunities, do different jobs, you know, do things that have pushed me out of my comfort zone.

But also there's an, there is an element of, and can I swear on this, I already have about five times.

I think absolutely but there is a it element.

There is, there is.

You know, I, I'm looking next year and I'm thinking, I just want to take the kids on holiday.

Like, I just want to do something magical with them.

I want to go somewhere amazing.

And you're looking at your savings and you're thinking, oh, but you know, what, university fees, first car.

It, like it's it life.

And it's a cliche, but life is short.

And I also think it makes me quite affectionate, if you like.

You know, I will always tell people I love them at the end of a phone call.

I will always make sure that my kids, you know, that we never go to bed on an argument because I know that life can change in an instant.

And I'm so glad that me and Ben were on.

You know, we hadn't, we had a six month old baby, you know, we could have, we could have gone off that morning on a blazing row, but he didn't.

We'd had a lovely day the day before and that morning we'd been, you know, be safe, darling.

Irony of that's not left on me, lost on me.

But I think the importance of making the people that you love aware of the fact that you love them.

And a little bit of gratitude, I guess, which again, hard to feel grateful in the early days, but that does come back.

Yeah, I'm saying, to quite a few people who've gone through loss.

And that thing about telling people they love them, like being present in the time you have with them.

Yeah, especially parents and grandparents as well.

Like, I'm acutely aware parents, they're in their mid-70s and I keep thinking, oh my God, you know, what am I gonna do?

But yeah, there's still a little bit of ostrich going on.

Let's not think about that right now.

Yeah, absolutely.

It's the best.

The balance, isn't it?

Yeah, it's a balance.

You mentioned the podcast.

Tell me a little bit more about that.

What was the reason for you first setting it up?

Because it's done Great.

It's over 200 episodes now.

Yeah, just keep churning them out, Sam.

Just keep churning them out.

So basically, I have harbored a lifelong dream of writing a book.

I did my degree in journalism, I worked in pe Are.

And life just got in the way and I could never really think, well, what do I want to write about?

You know, I'm an ideas person rather than a follow through person.

So I had this idea that I wanted to write a book called Widowed AF because I felt Like I was widowed.

AF widowed wasn't enough.

And.

But again, pen to paper just wasn't happy.

I've got notebooks filled with drivel all over the place.

You know, things I was going to write.

And so I thought, I'll tell you what, I'm going to start a podcast.

I'm going to interview people and that's going to perhaps form the basis of a book.

And essentially the book got put on hold for a while.

There is a book, but it got put on hold because the podcasting just took off.

And it started off it was just an iPad and a towel.

I don't know if you've ever used that luxury option for recording, but the towel kind of helps with the sound reverb.

Yeah, I know, it was really, really high tech.

Towel over the head?

No, underneath.

But there wasn't any camera.

You know, we didn't use cameras at first.

This is only like three years ago.

But cameras were off, so that was quite nice.

You didn't have to worry about what you look like, which was lovely.

And then it just started to grow and the downloads are increasing and I, and I never advertised.

People just came to me and I had a waiting list and suddenly I bought some better recording equipment.

And you know, suddenly my outsourced.

My.

My guest annex in the garden has become a studio.

So it suddenly kind of grew and grew and grew.

And then I was really fortunate.

Last year I won best interview at the Podcast Awards, which was.

I mean, I entered on a wh that I suppose gave me some validity and put me up there with some of the big boys.

I can't say it's had massive kind of commercial success for me, but it made me realize that what I'm doing actually is credible and people like it.

And so I wrote the book and I used transcripts from the podcast because much like this, it's quite free form.

You know, we talk, there is a little bit of structure to it, but, oh, you know, the tangents we go on, the information people give me the strength.

It's, you know, it's making me go goosebumpy now.

It's.

It's an enormous honor to share these stories.

It really is.

Yeah, absolutely.

And how did it help you on your own journey?

At what point of the grief journey was it and what did it give you that the other things in your life couldn't at that time?

So I started it, you know, not that long after I got sober and I.

Because I was going through a lot of kind of, you know, locked in trauma at the time, if I'm honest, my mental state was a little bit rocky.

So it.

Was it the best time to do it?

I don't know, but I used to find it really difficult.

Initially I loved doing it, I loved speaking to people, but I would, I would be sat under the desk shaking.

I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it.

I'd hear the ping, ping, ping, you know, somebody's in the waiting room and that kind of mask would go on and I'd be like, let's go.

And then it would all come to life.

So I just had to understand trust again.

It comes down to that.

Trusting myself, Trust myself, that when that happened I'd be fine.

But yet it has taught me an enormous amount, not only about how other people grieve, but it's made me kind of go back and look at myself and how I've grieved and it's taught me just that kind of enormous human strength.

Nobody wants to have to be that strong, but it turns out that most of us have got that kind of core of steel in there and vulnerability as well.

It's allowing yourself to be vulnerable.

I never used to speak openly about my mental health struggles and it gave me a place where I could speak to people and I'd be welcomed and treated kindly and warmly and I would give the same back.

And it just, it makes you feel like you're being held, I guess, and supported.

It's very much a two way street.

Yeah, it seems like the sort of thing that would have a really a nice community of.

Yeah, I've made friends through it.

You know, in fact, my lovely friend Julie came on the podcast, came to one of my retreats and she's now working with me, so she's on her way over to keep me in line.

Yeah, it's, it's sharing those stories of things that when you're in the moment, you probably feel like no one gets you.

Yeah, you're the only one.

Yeah.

And we feel about this about the smallest of issues in our life.

Like we sort of think, oh, no one's going to get this.

I was going to understand why this is stressing me out, but there are actually loads of people going through similar things and by doing what you're doing, it shares that, it gives it a voice and it gives other people the permission to be like, ah, this is actually A, it's more common than I thought, but B, like other people are struggling with it too.

And I'm not going.

It's okay for me to be.

Yeah.

Feeling this way.

Yeah.

I thought I was mad, bad and broken.

You know, all.

All the lovely things.

And then you talk to other people and, you know, there is.

There is a chapter in my book called Widow's Fire, which is probably the most kind of risque chapter.

I had to tone it down a little because my parents were going to read.

Widow's Fire is something that, until it happens, you've no idea.

And it's a kind of sudden increase in sexual desire.

And it feels really, really alien to you when you're in the grips of grief.

But it does seem to be almost universal.

But of course, what comes with that is an enormous sense of shame.

Shame that you put on yourself because you feel like you're being very disloyal.

You know, what the hell's the matter with me?

But also external because, you know, I had friends that were like, you know, this is really inappropriate, Rosie, and kind of really backed away from me.

All that does is taps into that shame which keeps you trapped.

So as soon as I started to talk about these things, and first of all, it'd be in, like, little WhatsApp groups with other widows I'd met online, and they'd be like, oh, my God, me too.

And you think, oh, my God, thank God it's not just me.

I'm not a freak.

And even just that sense of belonging, sense of understanding, and we all know that kind of old adage that shame cannot exist in the light.

You shine a bright light on it, and it disappears.

And it's true, you know, the shame that I carried with me from, you know, some of my behaviors, from the drinking, from, you know, even not being the mother that I really hoped I would be.

All of that.

No, let's not say all of it, but most of that has dissipated because of talking about it.

Do you find a pressure from the work that you do?

You obviously give all these people going through really tough times a safe place, a place to feel understood and to learn more about what they're going through.

Does it ever.

Is there a pressure on you to always be okay?

So when maybe you're not feeling the best inside and you are having moments of thinking about certain things, you feel that you can't be truly honest because you've got to be there for those people?

I think that there is.

There is an element of sometimes having to put my mask on and just get on with it because, you know, I guess it depends how rubbish I felt.

So I Do my absolute best not to camp, not to ever cancel an interview, because I understand what it takes for somebody to make the decision.

These people are not professional podcasters or broadcasters or celebrities.

They are normal, everyday people.

So for a lot of them, getting the confidence and the courage to apply to then sit in front of the screen.

So I'm acutely aware of that and I will always do my best.

But there have been times when I've had to cancel because I have to respect the impact it's going to have on me and the knock on effect of that because it's not just me, it's the three humans that depend on me to keep going.

So if, for example, I was feeling really, really low, really overwhelmed, exhausted, because my.

My kind of low mood, it makes me feel just like I've got nothing, no energy, then I would, I would reach out and I would say to them, like, I'm really, really sorry.

I will accommodate you around at a time that suits you, but I'm not going to be able to do it today.

And that's something, again, that it's taken me a while to understand that I need to do.

There have been times when I pushed through and I might have got through the interview and you might not have no clue at all that there was something going on.

But the impact that will have on me afterwards, it takes too great a toll.

So again, I think it was last year or the year before.

It all blurs in.

But there was a period of time when I was doing a lot of heavy lifting with my mental health.

I was getting treatment for HRT and, you know, under a psychiatrist.

So there was a lot of work coming in there.

So I dropped down to one every other week.

And I think that's the beauty of doing a podcast that's under your control.

You can say.

Well, actually, in fact, this week I didn't put an episode out.

I was too late to edit the description and the.

And the title and everything.

And I just thought, you know what, it's some holidays, it can wait a week.

And that's the beauty of having your own podcast.

Yeah, I think that's a really.

That, that feeling of pressure to always put it out.

If you're doing it weekly, it's got to be out every week.

And I.

Nobody cares.

I don't think anybody cares.

No, I did it for so long and then I sort of missed one one week and I felt so guilty and I started telling myself that I failed.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're sh t at.

Podcasting episodes I've done up to that point.

Didn't matter.

And everyone was gonna just unsubscribe so much.

Yes.

And then like, yeah, a few weeks ago, I just missed one.

I was like, it is what it is.

It is what it is.

I've been ill and I'm like, I'm just gonna knock one out.

I'm not even gonna make a big deal about it.

Yeah.

Or if I have, like, a mega busy few weeks where I do end up having to cancel in twos, and I'm like, oh, no, I've got nothing.

Because I like to have a couple in the tank, you know, ready to go.

Absolutely.

I haven't got one.

Well, it doesn't matter, does it?

I've got a waiting list of people.

I'll catch up.

It's.

And I think that that pressure, because I. I think I. I do try and do one a week, mainly because I know what I'm like and I thrive on that structure and the routine.

Yeah.

Well, one part of my brain does the other part psycho, this thing.

But that means that I feel like I have a commitment.

But, yeah, like you say, if I can't do it, the world isn't going to fall apart.

I always think that there's 200 episodes.

They'll find something to listen to.

Right.

Yeah, exactly.

It's.

Yeah, it's.

It's obviously you're trying to stick to that.

You've.

You've made that commitment and it's important to try and stick to as much as possible.

But life happens as well.

It does.

And you've got to just be kind to yourself in those and just be like, yeah, it is what it is.

Yeah.

They'll get.

They'll deal with it.

And we'll be back next week.

I just wanted to touch on sort of how.

How you dealt with the parental side of it.

So losing Ben put you into this position where you were an only parent.

And were you still pregnant with your youngest?

No, she was six months.

Six months, Sorry.

Yeah.

What was that like?

And how did you explain to them at that age what had gone on?

So this is probably the.

The hardest thing that I've ever had to do.

Telling them that their dad had died.

I mean, that's just a conversation that.

It still haunts me now.

My daughter was obviously too young, so she was still asleep.

And I'd waited up all night kind of googling.

How do I tell my kids their dad's died?

Because although he was technically missing, I learned quite quickly that it was very important That I used the D word, you know, that we said died.

Because children, if I'd said that he's missing, that's not clear, is it?

That's, that's, that says to them, he's coming home.

And actually, if he were to come home, amazing.

I'd unpick that trauma of telling them that that had died.

I'd rather do that than give them false hope.

Yeah.

So I just, I went upstairs and sort of, you know, deep breath, you know, and actually, do you know what, it's interesting because I'm just now thinking, you asked me, did I feel guilty about the separation.

I'll tell you when I did feel guilty walking up those stairs, because as a mother, your job is to protect your children.

And I was about to deliver this awful.

And again, you know, it's not your fault, but it feels like your fault.

And I just said to them, my darlings, I'm so sorry, but Daddy has died.

And they particularly my eldest, who was 7 at the time, you know, this noise, this kind of wounded animal noise.

But the really surreal thing, and I mentioned this a few times on podcasts, is that when I came back downstairs again after kind of, you know, splashing my face with water and a few deep breaths, they were playing, just playing like normal kids, like nothing had happened.

And I thought, what the hell is the matter with them?

But again, you learn.

Hindsight's great, right?

You learn that they.

That is a very normal child's reaction.

They, they kind of go in and out of their grief.

But I think staring down the barrel of solo parenting, when you have literally this kind of almost fresh baby in your arms and just thinking, how am I going to do this?

How am I going to put food on the table?

Because I was on maternity leave, Ben's bank accounts were locked.

He was self employed.

So it wasn't like there was a, you know, an employer that, with a death in service payment or anything that might kind of give me a bit of security.

And I just remember thinking, I'm just gonna have to survive this.

I couldn't foresee any joy or hope or laughter in my life.

I thought I was just going to be nose to the grindstone, do what needed to be done, look after the children and then deal with myself afterwards.

But it was really important to me that they weren't even early on.

It was very important to me that they weren't going to be raised in a household that was sad.

That's quite a big ask, really.

So they went back to school.

He died on the Monday, they went back to school.

On the Thursday and my daughter and I, we went back to things like baby yoga and, you know, church playgroups.

And my parents were incredible.

They moved in with me and you know, my daughter was ready to be weaned.

So my mum, lots of those little Ella's kitchen pouches were utilized.

There wasn't much home cooking going on.

But my mum, you know, she weaned my daughter for me.

But when they moved out and that was a big one because it was like, oh shit, it's just me.

And it has been hard.

Even things like my daughter took her first steps, you know, who do you tell who cares about that as much as you do?

And their father.

So that has been the hardest but also the most rewarding part of my journey so far because they are incredible.

They really are incredible and I am so proud of them.

And when I can bring myself to say it, I'm proud of me as well because had I continued the trajectory I was on, I think our outcomes would have been very different.

Yeah, yeah, I think you should say.

I think it's important though, isn't it?

It is so hard.

But yeah, you should be proud of yourself and thank you.

How much do you think they helped you?

You obviously helped center a lot and kept them moving in their lives.

But how much of that helped it?

You needed, do you think maybe unknowingly came from them?

Oh, so much, so much.

And actually, you know, back, back in those awful early days, I think my daughter was hugely helpful because a six month old baby, they want to be fed, changed, you've got to keep them clean, you got to give them love and cuddles but they, they don't want anything else.

For me, they don't want.

You don't have to kind of explain to them what's happened.

You don't have to.

You can almost separate the grief and focus on the joy of this beautiful baby, this very so wanted little daughter.

So she, yeah, and she was a very happy baby as well.

You know, we used to, mum used to bath her in the kitchen sink because she said it was too difficult on her back to bend over the bath.

So got all these pictures of my baby sat beaming in the kitchen sink having a bath and put her in a bucket and they go, poor child, she spent a lot of time in buckets of water.

But she brought us an enormous amount of joy.

And the boys, I mean that was tough.

That was tough because the behavioral issues that came out of it.

My middle son was Diagnosed with autism within a year of his dad dying.

Because the traits that were kind of underlying became exacerbated.

And that was quite frightening to watch because, again, I knew there was something.

He didn't just get autistic, but he.

He retreated into himself.

He became the way I would describe it.

It's like a trapped animal.

And so to see him in such distress, but not being able to articulate it was.

Was really tough.

And watching my eldest go from this quite, you know, carefree little boy who, you know, loved Minecraft and Lego and all these things, and then suddenly the school was saying, well, Mummy's spending lunchtimes reading on his own, and Liva's thinking, oh, God, you poor baby.

And there is nothing you can do.

There is.

You can't go in and wave a magic wand and fix it for them.

You have to just kind of walk.

Walk alongside them.

And I think that that kind of almost instinctive urge to fix, you have to put that to one side because you can't fix it.

You just have to be their kind of companion as you go through it.

And we've, We've.

We've had that then.

And we still have maintained a very, very open dialogue and relationship.

We talk about anything?

No.

Something.

I mean, God, some of the things my.

My middle child, like, Jesus.

But I want them to know that I am here.

And one of the big things is to create that sense of stability for them.

So no matter what turbulence is going on for me is to try and show them that not.

Not hide emotion, because that.

That, again, is quite dangerous.

You've got to show your emotion.

But to say to them, whatever is happening, I've got control of this ship, right?

I'm gonna.

I'm gonna navigate us through and we're gonna be okay.

You mentioned earlier about that, the sort of strength on the outside, but maybe not being so good on the inside.

And that flip where people start to think that you're doing okay and you don't need.

They don't.

Sorry, you don't need them anymore.

Was there any behaviors that you think maybe on the outside look like strength to people, but on the inside was just you surviving?

I ran a marathon, Sam.

Actually, Rand is probably pushing in.

I completely.

Congratulations, completed one.

But on the outside, that must have looked.

Look, you know, look at her taking back control.

She's doing fit.

She's doing this really kind of physically demanding thing.

But the reality of it was I was throwing up in bushes because I was hungover in the training.

I was.

I did Absolutely no complimentary training, no yoga, no strength work.

I just kind of dragged myself out on some runs.

I had terrible issues with my hip.

I didn't think I was going to actually make it to the run in the end.

And essentially what I was doing is I was out running my demons.

I was finding something that was so painful and horrible that for a brief while I couldn't think about how painful and horrible my life was.

So, yeah, from the outside you'd be thinking, go on, you know, look at you.

And actually, you know, I'm surprised I've still got use of my, my limbs, to be honest, because it was, it was.

I mean, I'll put it this way, I'm not going to do another one.

No, you've been off.

I thought about it, I did, I did think about it.

I thought, oh, I wonder if I now I'm sober, you know, because I was carrying a bit extra weight then as well.

So I thought, oh, you know, wonder if I could do it and get a better time.

And when do you think you're going to do the training?

Like, I've got time.

Yeah, it's, it's an interesting one because, yeah, people throw themselves into things like that and it's.

Whilst on the outside, it looks like a healthy thing you're doing, but it can be a cover up.

Yeah.

Would there be anything that you would see or that you can now see would have been a sign of that.

So someone looking in from the outside.

If you were looking in on someone now who may be going through something similar, are there any signs that what they're doing might not actually be strength, it might be something they're just doing to survive.

Yeah.

And I think we kind of circle back to the alcohol layer as well because I think when I, you know, went back to the pub and, you know, started to kind of poke my head above the parapet and start going to social things and going to a hendo.

I think again, people think, oh, you know, look, she's having a drink, she's all right, she's, you know, and that party girl Persona would go, I wasn't the get drunk and have a cry.

I was the get drunk and, you know, steal the microphone off the DJ and belt out 9 to 5, you know, cringe.

Right.

But to that you would never have looked at me and thought, oh, look, look, there's a woman who's lost her husband and, and is raising her children alone.

And I almost took an element of pride in that, of not portraying myself as a conventional widow.

But of course, you know, that that was numbing everything and I guess trying to go back to how I used to be.

I guess when I had a.

This is coming to me on the hoof as well, Sam.

But when I would drink, I almost would get a glimpse back into my old life, because for a brief moment, I could be that carefree person that didn't have this enormous grief weighing her down.

And people, again, you know, like I mentioned earlier, they would think, oh, she's got.

She's drinking a bit too much.

But, you know, she's grieving, you know, let's cut her a bit of kudos.

And it is a very delicate area.

If I now was to be talking to somebody who was in the grips of severe grief and they were, you know, maybe drinking two, three bottles of wine a night, I would be very concerned for them.

But I also know that I wouldn't be able to intervene.

I could voice my concerns, but it would come at the risk of alienating them with my position.

I would probably say, oh, you know, I remember it well.

I remember drinking heavily and, you know, I remember.

God, I remember that moment when I realized I was going to have to stop and trying to, you know, use it as.

So it wasn't coming as judgment, it was coming as, you know, I've been where you are.

Yeah, you being vulnerable with your own experiences to give them a space to talk openly about this.

But believe me, my mum tried to stop me drinking.

My dad, and I'm sure he won't mind me saying this, my dad's been in recovery for 35 years, so I am aware that a risk of alcoholic tendencies runs.

And I've always known that.

And my mum has always been very concerned about it.

So she would, you know, sometimes get quite cross with me, which, you know, it was in my late 30s.

Do you think you're talking to.

But she was right.

But all it did was make me secretive.

So then I started hiding the bottles and drinking upstairs in my bedroom.

And so actually, if you come at it with that sort of, we need to fix, it comes back to that fixing, doesn't it?

We need to fix you.

Often what will happen is somebody will just retreat further into addiction.

We spoke about how the podcast has obviously created this community, and I asked about the fact that, do you have to put on this mask and sort of be there for people when you may not be sort of there for yourself?

And you obviously make these people feel understood?

We just spoke about that.

Being vulnerable with your own experiences makes that person feel understood and someone they can relate to who makes you feel understood.

Look at that.

Look at that.

I have therapy.

I. I do.

It's.

I think I probably paid for at least one story extension at her house now.

And it's.

It is a cost that I.

Look, you know, when you're doing your monthly expenses and you think, oh, can I.

Can I get rid of that one?

That would make a massive difference.

And then I think what the consequences might be.

And the consequences might be that the wheels fall off and that can't happen.

So for me, and.

And particularly doing what I do for work, I think.

And not that I'm comparing myself to a qualified counsellor, but they have supervision, don't they, to make sure that they are being supported in what they're doing.

So I look on my counseling as almost like supervision to make sure that I'm picking up stuff that might have come up for me because of the conversations I've had.

But ultimately, the people that have given me that safe place to land have been my widow community, and they have been invaluable.

And actually the friendship dynamic, the group has changed.

The widows I'm close to now aren't necessarily the ones I was back in the early days, because people change.

They go on different journeys.

You know, I am not the same person I was when that happened.

But, yeah, knowing that I have WhatsApp groups, I have, you know, Instagram friends, I have an online community of people that not only look to me for support, but also will be there to catch me if I was to post a very vulnerable post, you know, hypothetically, I'm fine, but let's say I wasn't fine.

I know that if I put something out, I would be met with such warmth and such kindness and such understanding in a way that I perhaps wouldn't get if I was to put that on my.

My personal Facebook, for example.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, on that.

On that point as well.

It's.

Grief is such a difficult thing for a lot of people to approach and talk about to someone.

And even if someone's been through it, it can sometimes be a difficult conversation to have because it's so raw for that person.

But you, as a friend, potentially, you don't.

You're not feeling any of those emotions in that.

In that moment, unless you obviously knew the person as well.

And one of the things that I've spoken to people before, a grief counselor as well, who was saying about those words that everyone says to someone who's going through something like this, and they say Let me know if you need anything.

You need anything or.

Yeah, what, what can I do for you?

And I saw you, I think you posted the other day about this, didn't you?

Yeah, yeah.

So just tell me about why that is such an unhelpful thing and what instead people could do.

Yeah, because I'm really conscious of not, you know, bad mouthing people who say it because nobody says that with ill intention.

Nobody says, well, I'm not.

Nobody's going to ask, you know, nobody's going to take me up on this.

They do it because they don't know what you need and they believe that you can tell them.

But of course, when you're in that desperate grips of grief, somebody asks you what you want to eat that day, you're not going to be able to answer.

You don't know.

You genuinely don't know.

So the people that really.

The people that I remember the people, the things that people did where I had one friend and she came round and the first thing she did was empty my bins.

A job that was so far down my list of priorities, but a job that would have become quite disgusting quite quickly.

So she just came and did it.

People have.

Not for me personally, but people will pay for a cleaner for somebody, you know, club together, friends, club together.

Let's pay for a cleaner to come, even if it's once a month.

And take a pressure off you turning up with food.

Don't say, what would you like to eat?

You maybe ask what your favorite food is.

That's okay.

I am a very good friend of me, really.

Tragically, her son died and while they were going through the treatment, he died from a brain tumor.

I used to drop around.

His favorite food was a fish pie.

I used to once a week drop around a fish pie or lasagna or something.

But I wouldn't have known to do that had I not been bereaved myself.

I would have done the typical, you know, is there anything I can do?

Maybe I'd send a bunch of flowers.

You know what flowers do, Sam?

They die.

So you're.

But it's an understanding that comes with having been through it.

It's not something that you automatically know how to do.

And in my book there is a list of things you can do and perhaps you shouldn't do as a sort of, you know, how to guide.

And along with that it's, you know, a really good friend of mine, not somebody I see very often.

We grew up opposite each other on our streets and she obviously has a reminder in her phone.

I don't think she remembers the 12th of every single month, but every month she, she messages me.

And I think this morning's, it's 12 today's.

I think this morning's was morning.

Wanker.

How I thinking of you?

They're not, you know, they're funny because I'm still fighting.

I think I'm funny.

So it is, it's just, it's thinking about in that situation what might make you feel better, you know, and I'm being sexist here, but somebody, you know, sent their husband around to put air in my tires because they needed doing and I didn't have a clue how to do that.

So it's about kind of, it's about putting a little bit more thought in rather than just saying what, what do you need?

Because that's a very difficult question to answer.

Yeah, yeah.

I think it's such an important thing to talk about because it's something we don't talk about until it's time and then we say the wrong thing.

And like say importantly, not intentionally, we think we're doing a good thing, we think we're doing the right thing.

But yeah, I remember when I spoke to her, she was saying that someone came round and cooked a load of meals for the week and just put it all in Tupperware in the fridge and was like, that's you sorted for a keeper.

Somebody like that.

Yeah.

And in America they do something called a meal train where the community will set up.

I Presume It's a WhatsApp group, I don't know all the details.

And they'll take it in turns to take meals to the person who's going through a really tough time.

That's amazing, isn't it?

That, and I think sometimes that is what's lacking in our, perhaps in our country, in our culture is that sense of community.

I spoke to somebody and I can't remember where it was from, Eastern Europe.

And she was saying to me that in her culture, if somebody is widowed, the whole community will invite this person to anything, anything that they do, any family days, weddings, parties, funeral, anything, they are invited just by default.

And I thought, isn't that lovely?

Because one of the things that you lose when you lose your.

Particularly when it's your romantic partner is you lose your social life because.

Particularly if you have young children.

I couldn't go out.

My kids were too traumatized for a babysitter.

So my social life became almost non existent.

Probably why I drank so much, because I was lonely and the Times when I was invited out and.

Or people made the effort to come to me, I felt so grateful because it's again, it's realizing what somebody needs and if you've lost the person you spent most of your time with, you probably need a little company.

Yeah.

It's a human nature to want that company.

Right.

So someone to offer that.

And even if you turn it down, it's just the thought of the offer.

As well, that's another thing, because I was really.

Sometimes I'd say yes to things I didn't really want to do because I was scared that if, If I stopped, people would stop asking me.

And I think that's another thing is, is to remember not to treat somebody with the same kind of conditions that you might.

A friend who wasn't going through something.

You know, if I invited a friend for a coffee three times and they rejected me, I'd be like, oh, fuck you, then I'm not going to ask you again.

But if they were grieving, I would give them a little bit more.

It might be they don't want to have coffee with me, which is completely fine, but it might also be that they just, that day, they weren't up to it.

Yeah.

Yeah, absolutely.

Yeah.

I think it's such an important conversation to have.

And talking about things, we, we.

When we say grief, we obviously, most of the time we're talking about a human.

A human life.

But there are, There are smaller forms of grief that we go through all the time.

Like losing a job, suddenly losing a relationship just through someone deciding not to be with you anymore.

Those are forms of grief.

And.

Yeah.

And I think by talking more honestly about those things, before it gets to the point where someone's lost a life, we can make those conversations a lot more normal.

Yeah.

And by the time it gets to that point, we're not scared of what to say and end up just saying, how can I help?

Like, yeah, we, we know a little bit more about kind.

Do you know what.

What you're going through is shit.

Yeah.

I'm sorry.

And I'm gonna do this for you.

Yeah.

And that's it.

And it really genuinely can just be a text because sometimes, particularly if they've got family who've rallied around and my mum was making sure we were fed and watered and things, so I didn't necessarily need that, but I also didn't want to just be at home with my mum and dad.

Like, I wanted to speak to other people my age and I wanted.

I did want that little bit of.

I Guess normality.

And, you know, again, I'll never forget, there was a lady on my road and she found me on Facebook and messaged me and said, I know that you've got a dog.

I've seen you walk your dog.

I've got a dog.

Do you want me to walk your dog for you?

And actually walking the dog was a real therapy for me, so I politely declined.

But, well, you know, nearly nine years on, I still remember that offer.

So it's those things that really, really make a difference, even if you don't say yes.

Yeah.

We spoke early on about the feeling of that, like, moving on and finding some genuine happiness in life and perhaps the guilt that you feel for doing so.

What would you say to someone that's going through that grief now and they're starting to find some of that joy and happiness, returns to their life, but are feeling guilty on the inside?

Oh, and it's.

I try very hard not to kind of utilize that.

It's what they would have wanted because it can feel quite trite.

But I genuinely believe that if your person loved you, which, let's say for argument's sake, in this situation, they did, and you loved them and they have died, really, what would they want?

You know, would they want you to be devastated?

I mean, you know, a little bit.

Obviously, nobody wants to be forgotten.

But I know that Ben would have wanted me to build a life.

I know that he would have wanted me to find a way to provide for my children, to make sure that they were safe and loved and cared for and to bring joy back.

And I read a. I wrote a kind of a letter, a poem type thing to Ben, and I read it at his funeral.

Funeral without a body, but a funeral nonetheless.

And it's a list of promises.

And, you know, I promise I will get up each day and put my feet on the floor and face the day.

And I promise I'll show the children what a beautiful world awaits.

And.

And these are promises that I have absolutely tried to commit to and keep, because there is a beautiful world out there.

You know, there's a beautiful world down the road at the park.

You don't have to travel to Australia to see it.

It's there and there is joy.

And I just think how different my children would be now.

And, yeah, it's not all about the children, but that is my primary concern right now.

Had I lent into being sad forever, had I been that very traditional widow, you know, you still see signs, see these.

These buildings, and they've got something called a widow's walk, where they're kind of round and women who'd lost.

Because it was always women who lost their husbands at sea, they would be expected to just kind of walk and.

And look for them forever.

I mean, that's.

What a waste of a life.

What a waste of a life.

And I do think, you know, we've mentioned earlier, that sense of gratitude for what you still have.

And when that comes back and your eyes open and you think, I still have the opportunity to see the beautiful world, I'm still going to get to be there on the first day of school graduation.

You know, all these big events, I'm still going to be here.

So what a disservice to Ben if I was to not embrace it.

Yeah.

You've spoken so well about your journey and everything you've been through, the lessons you've learned along the way, the reflections, and you've obviously put it into this community, this book, this podcast that you're helping people deal with what you went through and maybe some of the things that you didn't know how to put into words.

When you look back on that journey, obviously we've heard your reflections on it.

How do you think Ben would reflect on it if he could see everything that you've done over that time?

Do you know, I sometimes think he's like, are we making money out of my death heroes?

And I'd answer, not a lot, though, mate, to be honest with you, I think he'd be very proud.

I think he'd be very proud.

I don't know how he'd feel about me going into another relationship relatively soon afterwards.

But I also.

I think he would understand.

I think he would absolutely understand.

I think he would look at those beautiful babies and think.

I think he'd almost be surprised.

I think I was not renowned for kind of being particularly resilient or, you know, I didn't think I was.

And then, of course, when you're given no choice, you are.

So, yeah, I think he would be saying, you know, well done, girl.

You got this amazing.

And is there anything that after everything that you've rebuilt over those years, is there anything that you're still learning to trust yourself?

Yeah, I'm still learning that.

Well, I'm learning that I haven't finished grieving.

I'm learning that there is still a lot of unpicking to do around the.

The lack of body, about the.

The what ifs.

Yeah.

And I think I'm learning that actually the kind of incremental grieving which is something I preached for a long time, but I felt quite numb and quite locked Recently I've noticed, but I think that's survival.

I do think that's survival.

And recently I've noticed, you know, like my little cry this morning, that it is okay to still feel these feelings of sadness and that they're not going to completely overwhelm me.

I do think that's the fear, particularly early on, is you think, well, if I feel this feeling, what's going to happen?

Am I going to be back where I was staring at a wall, you know, not.

Not wanting to be here in a really bleak, dark place?

And of course that doesn't can happen, but it doesn't always happen and it certainly doesn't happen every time you let a little bit of a crack show and the emotions come out.

So, yeah, I think it's just that kind of allowing yourself to feel the feelings.

And I do think if you don't feel the bad, then you don't feel the good as much.

I think you end up numbing and antidepressants can play a part in that as well.

I've lent quite heavily on Sertraline, but, you know, I'm gradually coming off now.

Yeah, well, we, I suppose we wish in a way that we only felt the good feelings but never the bad.

That would just be.

Yeah, but then there's also so many learnings that come out of bad feelings and I think, would we be who we are without them?

We wouldn't be as empathetic would be.

And that's something I have noticed is I'm not that I wasn't a nice person before.

I like to think I was, but.

But that kind of extra layer of empathy and understanding that people are going through some shit.

Absolutely.

Rosie.

The way I like to finish my episodes is to ask my guests to song and dance.

That's exactly it.

Yeah.

No, instead of a song and dance, if I could ask you to leave a question for the listener.

So for them to go away and start a conversation about maybe what we've spoken about, it can be for a family member, a friend, or even if they go up to a stranger to start a conversation, what question would you give them?

Gosh, that's put me on the spot.

Sam.

I think it would be, what would you tell the people that you love the most in the world if you were never going to get the opportunity to see them again?

And you don't necessarily have to run around everybody listing the things you love about them, but, you know, even just to be aware of it yourself and to kind of, you know, that reflection might make you, I don't know, treasure those people a little bit more.

Yeah, absolutely.

Be more present.

Yeah.

She says after disclosing my kids iPad time to you earlier, we're not putting that in.

We won't disclose that to the episode.

Yeah.

Rosie, it's been amazing to talk to you.

Thank you so much for your time today.

Thank you so much and for your openness and honesty and what you've spoken about.

If people want to find you, find the book, find the podcast online.

Where can they do that?

So the easiest place to start is the website which is widowed af.com I'm on Instagram as widowed_af.

I'm on Facebook widowed af and you can get the podcast anywhere.

Anywhere.

And the book, which is called Widowed AF is available Waterstones, Amazon, local bookshops if you order it in, which would be nice if you could Widowed AF everywhere.

Brilliant.

I'll link it all below so anyone listening, just scroll down and click on it.

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