From Widowhood to Fatherhood: How Losing My First Wife Led Me to My Calling

Many have remarked that death is both an end and a fresh start. I came to understand this truth personally during the months after losing my first wife, Lee.

She was only 46 when she passed away, and our already tiny family had shrunk to its smallest size possible. Now we were just three: 10-year-old Molly; and her father, myself.

As an ambitious young guy, I had never been particularly interested in parenthood. So, I was surprised once I became a father just how much I loved it. Right from the start.

Even before Molly was born, I felt a deep connection to her. And the sound of my voice must have been very familiar by the time she arrived, after my many "conversations" with her in the womb.

At the time, I worked as a freelance screenwriter and had the flexibility to set my own schedule, which gave us plenty of free time to spend playing together during those initial years.

Nevertheless, I could have never imagined that raising children—not only mine, but countless others as well—would turn into my life’s purpose.

Once I began to navigate life as a single dad, something started to nag at me. Somehow, I had to help Molly deal with this profound loss!

We would take long walks every Friday night from our new home, a small urban apartment, to any one of many wonderful restaurants in the neighborhood. It was our weekly ritual. And on those outings, particularly on the way home in the dark, she would bare her soul.

Beneath everything, I sensed her desperate search for explanations: Why did this occur to our mother? What have I done to warrant such fate? Is there any logic in this universe?

We weren’t affiliated with any church, temple, or mosque. There was no communal setting where we could seek guidance for tackling life’s most significant issues. Actually, from what I observed, these topics were hardly discussed at all, by anybody anywhere.

Even now, I am unable to pinpoint precisely when it became clear to me that I may need to act independently.

However, I am aware of this fact: Similar to numerous genuine blessings in life, I didn’t fully value the SPIRIT SERIES concept initially. Had it been a gift for my birthday, I probably would have returned it. Amazon or at the mall.

Therefore, after I started hearing the "call," I acted similarly to how many of us behave when we recognize something as correct but aren't ready to accept it. I looked the other way.

Indeed, I had my motives: writing wasn’t aimed at children nor did I have an inclination towards it. While I was fond of Molly and appreciated her friends too, dedicating my existence to ensuring their wellbeing was never part of my plan.

Even so, as the months went by and I kept sensing the emptiness in my daughter's heart, I couldn't escape the notion that my life would forever be changed. This endeavor held me firmly in its grasp.

I did have some storytelling skills. Could I use them somehow to come to her aid? Could the stories of heroes from the past, the lessons their lives teach—their triumphs and challenges--help Molly meet the challenge in her own life? And if it could help her, could it somehow help other kids as well?

However, how could I put this into practice? And where? In a public school?? After all, I was merely a parent with zero experience teaching in a classroom, no background in education, minimal understanding of how public schooling operates, and barely any savings accumulated.

Later, during the spring prior to my daughter joining sixth grade, I encountered an accomplished secondary school educator who was motivated by the concept and possessed the skills necessary to bring its full potential into fruition.

Ultimately, it was a commitment to myself that truly mattered. This wasn’t solely beneficial for me; history’s heroic tales often come with intricate layers of complexity. Writing these narratives for children wouldn’t have done them proper service. The only way I could agree to this project was by approaching my readership as mature individuals.

Therefore, after nine months, we guided 120 sixth-grade students at a middle school in Los Angeles through their initial SPIRIT SERIES journey. Molly was one of those participants. The program spanned three intense weeks filled with theater activities, personal reflection, character development, challenging academic work, and teachings from Eastern philosophy—a significant challenge for these young learners.

Once every class had wrapped up their public presentation of this single-act historical biopic, a reserved young lady remained behind. She enquired whether she could assist with dismantling the set. Just as we concluded our task, she lifted her gaze and quietly remarked: "This has transformed my life."

At that instant, things changed for me.

We had shared with them the tale of an Indian prince who abandoned his luxurious existence to find a way out of life’s misery. Now, I found myself confronting a comparable test.

What would I be willing to walk away from in my life? Could I leave security and comfort behind to head into the unknown with no guarantee of success?

Similar to the prince destined to achieve enlightenment, I understood that I had no alternative. I had already ventured into the enigma...with no possibility of retreat.

The path forward wouldn’t be simple. Had I been aware of just how difficult it would be, I likely would have never started at all. For nearly four years, I couldn’t afford to pay myself, barely making ends meet and grabbing whatever freelance writing work was available.

However, as the changes continued to manifest in the students we guided through these three-week initiations, witnessing their infusion with the inspiration, empowerment, and wisdom provided by these heroic tales, I myself underwent a transformation.

During those initial years, I took pride in the efforts I exerted to regain control of my daughter’s life. It was not until Leslie came along—my second wife and collaborator on the SPIRIT SERIES—that I started to become more enlightened and understand who truly benefited from all my so-called “noble deeds.”

We started to realize the extent to which these youngsters depended on what we offered them: A sense of purpose, challenges to grow, a feeling of community, moments of awe, and an outlet for self-expression. Above all else, they relied on us for a secure journey into adulthood.

Whenever the classroom fell completely silent during our sessions, you could almost see the lightbulbs illuminating above the students' heads—they were grappling with significant life inquiries, whether consciously or subconsciously. Much like Molly, who was quietly, perhaps even urgently, striving to understand our complex world.

Through personal tragedy, I was steered towards a purpose much greater than what I ever could have anticipated.

Gradually, my appreciation grew. Here we were participating in an age-old and genuine tradition. Essential qualities and fundamental values crucial for sustaining any society are typically imparted to our children via narratives.

Initiation—successfully facing significant challenges like those we guided these youngsters through—has always been the main route from childhood throughout history.

Throughout history, the requirements of children have remained constant. However, our world has evolved. Loneliness and the negative impacts of social media are indicators of a significant and pressing unfulfilled necessity.

Over the last 25 years, I've worked with more than 65,000 youths across the nation, teaching me numerous lessons. The most crucial one being: It’s essential to equip our children with the tools they'll need to face life's obstacles. This is something we owe future generations.

Our highest duty is to guide the upcoming generation into maturity, providing them with the principles, self-assurance, and motivation they will critically require to face what lies ahead.

If we fail to guide our children, tragically, TikTok and Instagram surely will.

Richard Strauss is the founder and National Executive Director of SPIRIT SERIES , Inc., a nonprofit dedicated to education, has been providing impactful narrative-driven lesson plans for students in fourth through tenth grade since 2001. This initiative has reached more than 65,000 underserved children across California to Maine.

All views expressed are the author's own.

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