There are almost 10 million widowed women in this country, constituting almost 5 percent of the total population.1 Their median age is sixty-four.2 As a minority group they suffer from sexism, ageism, and in some cases, racism.3 All of them suffer because they are perceived to be carriers and transmitters of the reality of death. They may be abused by bureaucracies and insensitive professionals, shunned by relatives and former friends, exploited by racketeers and Don Juans, discriminated against by employers, and berated by others in similar circumstances. They belong to a subculture whose members live in relative oblivion, submerged in the despair of loneliness, chiding each other for self-pity, advising each other to keep busy, individually hoping for an avenue of escape, and collectively succumbing to an attitude of hopelessness. Most widows hate the word "widow." Many have told me that people respond to them as if they have an infectious disease. The model of a pervasive illness is suggested by their questions. They want to know when-if ever-they will "get over it." They want to know if anyone ever "completely recovers," if anyone is ever "cured."