In a minute, I’ll tell you what that “worst thing is.”

Today I received a copy of an e-mail that was sent by the Leader of the Phoenix Book Publishing and Marketing Meet-up Group to the winners of the recent 35-day Blog Challenge–i.e., those people who had posted a blog every day for the 35 days of the Challenge, from September 13 to October 17, 2015.

I was stunned––my name was significantly absent from the list.

My friends and family will attest to the fact that I had a blog posted on my website––at www.maryellenstepanich.com––each of those 35 days. I had even announced to the Leader at the last meeting of the Meet-up Group that I had successfully completed the Blog Challenge. So, I couldn’t understand why I had been ignored. What was an even greater “slap-in-the-face” was the fact that she wrote in the e-mail that one of the prizes awarded was an e-book copy of my memoir, D is For Dysfunctional…and Doo Wop.

What? I’m not good enough to be recognized for completing the Challenge, but I am good enough to provide a prize?

I’m 75 years old, but when I read that e-mail, I sat down and cried like a freshman coed who has just been rejected by a college sorority. I tried to be adult and shrug off the snub as just so much nonsense, but I couldn’t shake that feeling of “worthlessness.” I thought, “I haven’t felt this bad since …”

And then it hit me. I hadn’t felt like this since before my husband, Michael, died. When he was alive, and I would receive a similar rejection or hurtful slight, he would take me in his arms, hug me, and say, “Oh, forget ’em.” (Only, he would use a much more colorful word.)

So, here it is––the worst thing about being a widow: There’s no one to be “on your side” when the world gives you a kick in the…teeth.