For me, dinner time now is the hardest part of the day. During my 45 years of marriage, dinner time was not just consuming food, but a ritual, a time for the family to sit down together at the dining room table, to eat and talk. Sometimes there were arguments, but we were together. After the children were grown and out of the house, Bill and I continued the traditions that we had begun in our first year of marriage: lighting two candles, saying grace, having dinner together, whether soup or hamburgers or something fancier that Bill who was the more daring chef was trying for the first time. The radio would be on, playing classical music, but the television never was on during dinner time. 

Now my dinners are very simple—a frozen pizza, a scrambled egg, prepared soup from the grocery store. They certainly are not well balanced. A nutritionist would give me a good scolding. Sometimes dinner is microwave popcorn. (I was relieved to hear from another widow that she often eats popcorn for dinner.) Food is not very interesting when you are the only one eating—at least that is what I have found. Sometimes I sit on the couch and balance a plate of food and my iPad, watching a TV show via Netflix.  Other nights I sit at the dining room table, in one of the comfortable teak chairs I purchased after Bill’s death with a book by my plate. I cannot bring myself to light a candle, though I light the candles when family or friends are here for dinner. And how pleasant those gatherings are! Also wonderful are lunches with friends. I usually eat enough at those lunches that I don’t need any dinner.  

I am interested in hearing how other widows or women who find themselves alone after a divorce cope with the dinner hour.  Perhaps in time I will be able to light the candles for dinner for one.