Imagine Losing the Love of Your Life After Nearly 40 Years

Imagine losing the love of your life after nearly four decades together and then deciding not just to survive it, but to embrace the unknown, rediscover joy, and even laugh again.

That is exactly what happened to Patty Theill.

After losing her husband Dave to pancreatic cancer, Patty found herself facing a world she had not navigated in decades. A world filled with grief, reinvention, loneliness, firsts, faith, friendship, and eventually dating again.

In this episode of Living Ageless and Bold, Patty shares her story with raw honesty. Her memoir, Losing My Widow Virginity, is funny in title but deeply human in substance. It is about love, loss, and stepping into what she calls a “new tomorrow.”

Her story is not just for widows. It is for anyone who has experienced loss, through death, divorce, or life transitions, and is trying to figure out how to move forward.

A Diagnosis No One Wants to Hear

Dave was not only Patti’s husband of nearly 40 years. He was also a physician, an anesthesiologist who had previously practiced as an internist. He was an avid mountaineer and had a trek planned in Pakistan with their children when he noticed he did not feel as strong as he thought he should.

Being a doctor, he walked into the radiology department and requested a chest X-ray to make sure pneumonia had not returned. It had not. But the radiologist noticed a tiny enlarged pancreatic duct.

It was stage one pancreatic cancer.

Most pancreatic cancer is not discovered until stage four. Dave’s was found early. He underwent a new protocol that included chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, and more chemotherapy, all within less than a year. He had a Whipple procedure, a major surgery that removed part of his pancreas, his gallbladder, part of his stomach, and portions of his intestines before being reconstructed.

He lived two years cancer-free.

But he had warned Patti. If it came back, he told her, it would come back with a vengeance.

It did.

In the last quarter of 2021, the cancer returned and was everywhere. It was quick.

The Reality of Grief and the “Inexact Science” of Medicine

As a physician, Dave often reminded Patti that medicine is an inexact science. Doctors provide time estimates based on experience, but they cannot predict an exact date of death.

Even so, hearing timelines can feel like a gut punch.

Grief does not begin when someone dies. It begins with diagnosis. It begins with uncertainty. It begins with fear.

And then there is the morning after.

Patti described waking up the day after Dave passed. Though he had often been on call during their marriage, this time was different. This time he was truly gone. She stood in the bathroom, flipped the light switch, and the lights began flickering.

Not once. Not subtly.

They flickered until every single bulb in the fixture popped.

She believes it was Dave letting her know he made it.

Signs, Faith, and Staying Open

The day before Dave died, Patti says she heard from his mother, who had passed decades earlier. In what she describes as a vision, she heard her voice saying she could not wait to see Dave.

After he died, the flickering lights felt like confirmation.

Later, when their beloved dog Sadie passed, Patti experienced another moment. The landscaping lights outside her home, which had not worked for three years, suddenly illuminated brightly. At the same time, her son noticed lights flickering in the basement.

To Patti, these were signs. Dave and Sadie together.

She believes if you talk to God and remain open to listening, you will receive messages. These experiences strengthened her faith and reinforced her belief that there is life beyond what we see.

Getting Out of Bed When You Do Not Want To

Grief can make even the smallest tasks feel impossible.

Patti admitted there were days she did not want to get out of bed. Numbness. Fear. Deep sadness.

But she had a dog at the time. The dog needed to be walked. The dog needed to eat.

Sometimes responsibility pulls us forward when emotion cannot.

One of her biggest pieces of advice to widows is simple but powerful. Get out of your house.

It is easy to cocoon yourself. It is easy to sit in the quiet surrounded by reminders of what you have lost. But isolation can deepen despair.

Take a walk. Meet a friend for coffee. Have lunch. Have dinner. If necessary, do all three in one day.

Being proactive matters.

You Cannot Control What Happens, Only Your Response

Patti leaned heavily on a philosophy she learned from Dr. Amit Sood of the Mayo Clinic, who specializes in gratitude and resilience.

She could not control becoming a widow.

She could control her actions and her attitude.

She made a decision. She did not want to become someone people avoided inviting to gatherings because she was consumed by sadness. She wanted to find joy again.

That does not mean grief disappeared. It means she chose not to let it define her entire existence.

She became proactive around difficult anniversaries. The year after Dave died, Mother’s Day, his birthday, and the anniversary of his passing occurred on three consecutive days. She planned intentionally. Her son invited friends. She spent time with loved ones. She filled those days with connection instead of isolation.

It was not easy.

It was a choice.

Friendship, Community, and Feeling Left Out

Grief can reshape social circles.

Patti discovered that some couples pulled back from her. She later realized it may have been because she represented the possibility of loss. Others suggested that as a single woman, she might be perceived as a threat.

That had not even crossed her mind.

But she also found something powerful.

Sorority sisters in grief. Friends who were divorced. Women who had experienced their own forms of loss.

She acknowledged that after losing Dave, she realized she had not fully understood the depth of pain her divorced friends had experienced. Loss is loss. It may look different, but it leaves similar scars.

Community became essential.

The Firsts No One Prepares You For

The title Losing My Widow Virginity may sound provocative, but Patti explains it is about more than one moment.

It is about firsts.

The first Valentine’s Day alone.

The first wedding without a father present.

The first birthday.

The first anniversary of a death.

The first time cleaning out a closet and finally being unable to look at it anymore.

The first kiss after decades of marriage.

The first time dating again.

Every first is a step into unknown territory.

Dating Again After 40 Years

The idea of dating after nearly four decades with the same partner can feel terrifying.

Initially, Patti simply wanted companionship. Her daughter suggested she consider someone who had not known her husband. That meant online dating.

She joined eHarmony after seeing a prompt to join for free. Friends helped her write her profile while sitting poolside in Cabo. They laughed at awkward profile photos. They scrolled together.

Eventually, she paid the subscription fee and began interacting with potential matches.

She described online dating as feeling 12 years old again. Like being at a seventh-grade make-out party. That rush of first kisses and nervous excitement returned.

But it was not all smooth.

She referred to the experience as a game of chutes and ladders. Just when you think you are making progress, you slide backward.

Her mantra became simple. Next.

She even joked there should be a dating app called Next.

Learning the Hard Way

Patti admitted she initially approached online dating blindly. Only later did friends introduce her to podcasts and resources about unavailable partners and red flags.

She immersed herself for hours, absorbing information and realizing mistakes she had made.

Her perspective shifted.

Instead of viewing each rejection as deeply personal, she reframed dating as a business decision. Each person is evaluating compatibility for the future. When she removed some of the emotional personalization, the process became lighter. More fun.

She appreciated what she learned from each person she met.

And unexpectedly, someone from her past re-entered her life, though she hints that the story may be reserved for a second book.

Reinvention Is Not Just for Widows

Patti is clear. Her book is not solely for widows.

It is for divorcees rebuilding.

It is for anyone navigating loss.

It is even for middle-aged adults with aging parents who may one day face these realities.

She describes it as a “what to expect when you lose your spouse” guide. It offers insight on everything from emotional healing to practical decisions.

She even includes lessons learned from being scammed during a vulnerable season, reminding readers to be cautious when distracted by grief.

Reinvention is not limited to career changes or new hobbies. Sometimes reinvention is learning how to live without the person who anchored your world.

Choosing Joy Again

One of the most powerful themes in Patti’s story is intentional joy.

She did not deny loneliness. She admitted there were moments of deep longing, of wanting to pick up the phone and call Dave about something that happened.

But she also chose laughter.

She chose travel with girlfriends.

She chose dinners on hard anniversaries.

She chose to step forward even when she felt like retreating.

Grief may not be controllable. Response is.

There Is Life After What We Are In Right Now

Perhaps the most comforting message Patti shares is this.

There is life after what we are in right now.

That does not minimize loss. It does not diminish love. It does not erase heartbreak.

It means that even after nearly 40 years together, even after devastating illness, even after waking up to an empty side of the bed, it is still possible to stand up, walk forward, and build something new.

Her story is proof.

And for anyone navigating grief, divorce, or reinvention, it serves as a reminder.

You are not alone.

And your next chapter is still waiting.