7 Reasons To Write Your Spouse’s Story

Writing was never really my thing. I’d post the odd blog or newsletter, but that was about it. I’d always dreamed of writing a book one day, though I never imagined it would be my late partner’s story I’d be telling.

A book about dogs would have made far more sense, given I’ve run a pet care business for the past five years.

A few days before my partner died he said that he never wanted to be forgotten. He’d been in hospital for almost three weeks having had a diagnosis of incurable cancer. We were hopeful we could get him home and start chemo. Life had other plans.

Entangled with my grief was a sadness for him. His grandchildren would never get to hear many of his enchanting stories. They would never know about the time he almost got kidnapped whilst working abroad, or that he liked a cup of Earl Grey tea before bed.

When you’re living and breathing and enjoying life these things seem somewhat trivial, but when you’re gone, they become big and hugely important.

So much dies with them and I didn’t want that to include all his stories. His grandchildren would never get to hear the story of how he got his unique grandfather name of GrandPoo, nor would they know his many quirks, or what really made him belly laugh.

The realisation that there are so many people who will never get to meet the person that was your entire world brings a whole new level of grief.

The original plan was to write his memoirs for his grandchildren. But writing became so much more. It gave me healing, connection and hope, which was all completely unexpected.

When you lose someone you love, the world shifts. The silence feels heavier, the days blur, and the memories start to slip through your fingers. Writing their story becomes a way to hold on, to make sense of the ache, and to keep their spirit alive.

Here are seven reasons why writing your spouse’s story can be one of the most healing and meaningful things you’ll ever do.

1. Memory Loss

When grief fogs your mind, writing helps you remember.

He had the memory of an elephant, whereas I have the memory of a goldfish. Combine a goldfish memory with grief fog and suddenly remembering just to get dressed in the morning is a bloomin miracle.

So many stories simply vanished from my internal memory hard drive overnight causing panic. The more you panic, the worse things become. Would the memories ever come back or had they died with him? The thought of them being gone for good was unbearable. 10 months into my grief journey and they are starting to slowly come back but I have to work hard to retrieve them.

Writing his memoirs was the catalyst in bringing them back to me. There is something magical that happens when you start writing about these stories. It happens when you read novels too, you get transported into that world.

If I could remember one tiny part of the story, writing brought everything flooding back. I could go back to those moments and feel him, hear him, be next to him. Everything becomes so vivid.

Now that might sound like a painful trip into the past, triggering even more emotions but it wasn’t. If I am having a bad day where my grief is spiralling out of control I hold on to something of his and it gently calms me down. I can’t have him, but a physical object of his is the next best thing. Ironically the thing that I always hold is his wallet. It’s not about money, but more the security he gave me. He was my safe person.

2. Shutting out the world

Writing opens a small window of connection to them.

You’ll often find me writing with a hoodie up, or a hat on. It’s something I’ve always done but it wasn’t until someone questioned it recently that I realised that I did it.

Writing is something that is personal and when you start typing or putting pen to paper you enter a zone. Having a hoodie on is my version of a horse wearing its blinkers. I enter a very special world where it’s just me, the words and those precious memories exist. The rest of the world gets shut out and there is peace. No stress, no anxieties, and to a degree no grieving.

I did start to light a candle so that I could create something wholesome when I was writing his memoirs. But after numerous times of forgetting to blow it out and leaving the room (and on one occasion even leaving the house), for safety I decided that it was best not to light any more candles.

When you’re grieving there is so much sensory overload in life. Things that the ‘before’ version of me could cope with, and now the ‘after’ version of me finds unbearable. Being able to shut out the world for a short while is incredible healing.

3. Keeping him alive

Every story you write is a way of saying, “You’re still here.”

I’m not delusional, I know he isn’t coming back. But I’m not ready to stop thinking about him, love him or even wish he could walk through the front door.

People do surround you with sympathy and thoughts of kindness, but I also experienced negativity too. Negative comments about us and about him, unkind comments that no person grieving should ever have to deal with. I hope that this negativity is uncommon to others grieving, but fear that it is quite common.

I have no idea what the motives were for the hurt. Jealousy of what we had, fear of realising life is precious and that they could lose everything too, or simply some people are genuinely nasty???

But the one thing they couldn’t touch was the connection I could create when I was writing about him. I felt his strength and that helped me ignore the turkeys. He had many phrases and one of my favourites was “Life is meant to be fun, don’t let the turkeys get you down”.

When I write I get a feeling of closeness and that makes me smile deeply, from the inside out. They say to look for the glimmers in life, this feeling is one of those glimmers.

4. Making sure his legacy lives on

Words outlive us. A story written from love becomes a legacy for future generations.

When my partner died he had 2 very young grandchildren.

Chances are with 3 children and 2 step children there are going to be more grandchildren in the future too.

The problem is that none of his grandchildren would get to know him. They would never learn about his obsession for condiments, or the reason why he couldn’t reverse a car without opening the door, or the way he liked his steak cooked.

Both my grandfathers died when I was in my 20’s, so I had plenty of time to get to know them, and for them to get to know me. My partner was so proud when he found out he was going to be a grandad and would have loved to get to know all his grandchildren.

5. Gave a purpose

When everything feels broken, writing helps you rediscover who you are now. It’s a bridge between the life you had and the one you’re learning to live.

There is pain in writing, but there is pain in grieving too, and writing can provide such a meaningful outlet for it. When I lost my partner everything about me changed and I had to discover a new version of me. Together we had started a business and had just had our most successful year and were looking forward to an even better year (or so we thought).

I was driven for my business, I loved it and I loved working with my partner. It was an exciting time.

When he died, the love for the business died with it. I changed the way it worked so that I did continue to love it, but it was completely different from how I had planned it to be.

Having a focus has always helped me to move forward. As Zig Ziglar said “Lack of direction, not lack of time, is the problem. We all have twenty-four hour days.”

Life changed and so did my direction and I needed to work out what direction I should now head in.

When I started writing my late partners memoirs and I found I had something to focus on. It meant that I could move forward in this new life. If I had a wobbly kind of day then I knew I could either sit and read his memoirs, or write another chapter.

6. Writing (and grieving) don’t have to be perfect

Your story might be the light that someone else needs in their grief.

I’ve always been a very private person and a perfectionist. Grief allowed neither of these AND that was a massive struggle for me.

The minute that I announced his death the hospital bubble that we had been in for the past three weeks suddenly blew up. For three weeks it had just been him, me and close family along with an array of doctors and nurses. Only a few friends knew the severity of the situation. We chose to keep things quiet until he got home. Unfortunately, he never got home.

So, when the bubble burst all eyes were on me, the grieving widow. Stepping into a role got me through the funeral and I played it perfectly.

Behind closed doors and away from prying eyes was my chance to become imperfect, but still, I couldn’t. There was admin to do, mouths to feed, a house still to run. The only way I could be imperfect and grieve imperfectly was through writing. These were the stories that we had created together. He had been a part of them and therefore I knew that I didn’t need to put on a ‘show’, I didn’t need to be alone. On paper (and also in my heart) we were still very much together and I loved that feeling.

I’m choosing to publish his legacy book as it’s something I’m really proud of writing, but equally if I didn’t publish it then that is ok too. There may be spelling mistakes, or badly worded sentences but I haven’t written it for it to become a best seller. I wrote it because selfishly it helped me. These are his stories and as he was a devil at getting his “your” and “you’re” wrong I think he’ll forgive me a few typos.

7. Officially become an author

Writing transforms grief into meaning. It’s how we turn loss into a legacy.

Calling myself an author may be slightly premature, as my legacy book is still not finished.

I thought it was finished, but the more I write the more I remember and another new chapter gets started.

I also have worries with the thought of declaring the book finished. With so many endings, I’m not sure that I’m ready to write THE END on these memories just yet.

Maybe I’ll create a trilogy and then I won’t have to worry about the finish for a while yet.

However, I will get this book published and I will call myself an author and I may even have a mini book launch with champagne and smiles to celebrate.

Journal Prompt

Take a quiet moment to write the story of how you met. Where were you? What did you notice first? What made you smile? Let the memories flow without worrying about structure or perfection. Just write from the heart.

About The Writing Club

When you’re carrying a story that means everything to you, it can feel overwhelming to know where to begin. The Writing Club is a gentle space where you’ll find guidance, encouragement, and a community of others who understand what it means to write from the heart. Together, we’ll turn memories into something lasting and beautiful.

If you’ve ever felt that same ache, the fear that their stories might fade, I want you to know you don’t have to carry it alone. Inside The Writing Club, we’ll walk through the process together. You’ll learn how to capture those memories, shape them into a story, and create something lasting and beautiful.

It’s not about writing the perfect book. It’s about keeping love alive through words.

He once told me he never wanted to be forgotten. Now, through these words, he never will be. Every story we write keeps love alive a little longer, and that, I think, is the most beautiful legacy of all.