As long as there have been war, pestilence, natural disasters, or great building projects: temples, great walls, canals, or pyramids—women have lost their men. In some villages in which hundreds of men went to work and did not return, hundreds of widows remained. Theirs was a great loss, for in ancient times in China and in Greece women had no public face. Forbidden to leave the house without a guardian, the widow was unable to work—sell her produce, handiwork, or service to earn a living to feed her children. Without the freedom to work the field, negotiate sales in the market––selling the animals she tended or the food she raised––a widow could not make a living.
It was the widow’s fate to rely on a son, perhaps one whose mother was only a distant memory. He was in charge, leaving her vulnerable to the mercy of his memory of her nurturance, his particular personality, his whim, or even the agreement of his wife. Like his father and her father, a woman’s son was free to starve her, neglect her, whip her, or kill her. Incredibly, elder abuse is a common phenomenon even in today’s world. Some sons relieved themselves of the societal responsibility to care for them by eliminating the aged woman. And while her marriage perhaps had been difficult, her widowhood would be miserable.
In the Levant, at least remarriage to the husband’s brother would bring a stable life. There, a widow was expected to marry her husband’s male relative so she would continue the bloodline in the husband’s honor. She remained part of the family. Levirate marriage was a part of the Hebrew culture.
But in China, during the influence of Confucius, women were discouraged from remarrying, even shamed if they did so. Poverty for herself and her children was imminent.
In India, widow’s fate was determined. Some communities traditionally practiced the Hindu religious funeral ritual, sati also known as suttee. For hundreds of years, a widow was expected to throw herself on her husband’s funeral pyre and follow him unto death. In the Bengal Sati Regulation of 1829, the British East India Company outlawed the custom of the widow’s immolation.
Once a widow, religious women were brainwashed to die for the glory of their earthly god rather than continue with the loss of quality of life merely existing in a form of living death. In cultures in which women were not esteemed, burial was not important for a widow, the disposition of her corpse is not known. In some corners of the ancient world, the word widow meant “she who is waiting to die.”
A folksong, perhaps from the time of the Civil War, touches the heart of every woman who waves goodbye to her love for the last time:
He’s gone away
For a little while,
But he’s comin’ back
Though he goes ten thousand miles
Oh, who will tie my shoes?
And who will glove my hand?
And who will kiss my ruby lips when he’s gone?
In every culture, in every land, women lament the loss of the beloved spouse. The consequences, the aftermath, are diminished by the deep sorrow of the moment, knowing they now are alone. Widowhood is not merely a word. Having been widowed only one year and into my eternity, I now can relate to the multi-millions before me who loved and lost.
Dr. P.D. Sargent,
Power Women: Lessons from the Ancient World
ancientscribe22@gmail.com
pdsargent.com