The truth about BEING A WIDOW

Ros Hart has spent the last three years learning how to live a different kind of life

- ROS HART

I am a widow – these are the first four words I have uttered when meeting new people over the last three years. I’m proud to be Mal’s widow; I’m prouder to have been his wife and companion for the 24 years prior to his departing this world. This is how I have been defined – I wanted to be. And I needed to speak Mal’s name, to explain his importance and absolute relevance in my life.

I hadn’t properly lived until Malcolm Hart, then 33, came to me that joyful day in January 1992. We met at our local health club through mutual friends who introduced us.

Our children came along – Ben in October 1996 and Lia in February 2000 – and we were such a close-knit, happy unit, the four of us. We loved being together, and Mal made sure we had family days out often. Our holidays were legendary – Mal loved to organize adventures. We didn’t just sit on a beach, we went exploring and discovered the countries we visited.

At home, Mal was playful – he had a child-like love for Winnie the-Pooh and quoted him at every opportunity – but he was firm but fair, too, teaching the children so many of life’s lessons in his sensible, yet quirky and indomitable way.

Mal made us into the people we are – he was a strong force in our lives and we loved him deeply and unconditionally.

But then, in December 2016, Mal’s infectious spirit for life waned somewhat. He was nauseous and lacking in energy and, a month later, after it hadn’t cleared, he was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia (AML).