A woman from Bolton whose husband died by suicide after years of living with Multiple Sclerosis is speaking publicly for the first time as part of The Widowed Collective’s new campaign marking International Widows Day. Sarah Lundy was left to raise their young son alone and rebuild her life after Wigan-born Darren’s death. Eight years on, she is helping shine a light on the long-term realities of widowhood and the loneliness many people continue to experience long after their loss.
Sarah Lundy, 57, who was born and raised in Bolton, met Darren in 2004 when both were in their thirties and quickly realised she had found the person she wanted to spend her life with. At the time, she had never imagined herself getting married and had not planned on becoming a parent. Darren, who was from Wigan, already had two young children and, together, they began building a life that felt full of possibility and hope.
Just six months after they met, however, Darren was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Determined not to let the disease define him, Darren continued working as a heating and ventilation engineer in schools and hospitals across the North West. Proud, hardworking and fiercely independent, he rarely wanted to discuss his condition and preferred to focus on living life as normally as possible. The couple later married and welcomed their son, Charlie.
As the years passed, Darren’s condition became increasingly severe. The disease gradually robbed him of his mobility, independence and confidence. He struggled to walk, lost fine motor skills, found everyday tasks increasingly difficult, struggled with short-term memory loss, and became more isolated as his condition progressed. Sarah found herself taking on growing responsibilities both financially and practically as she supported her husband and cared for their young family.
Sarah said, “When we met, Darren was funny, capable, hardworking and full of life. We genuinely believed we could face whatever Multiple Sclerosis threw at us because we faced everything together.
“Over time, though, the disease changed every aspect of our lives. The man who had always looked after everyone else gradually lost the ability to do so many of the things most people take for granted. Multiple Sclerosis doesn’t just affect the person who is diagnosed, it affects relationships, finances, family life, mental health and the future you thought you were going to have.
“We were still each other’s person and we still loved each other deeply, but our relationship changed. I became a carer as well as a wife, and that was incredibly difficult for both of us.”
By 2017, Darren’s physical health had deteriorated significantly and he was experiencing serious mental health difficulties linked to the progression of his illness. Sarah spent months living with the constant fear that she might lose him as mental health crisis teams became involved in his care and every day felt uncertain.
When Darren appeared to improve, Sarah believed the family had weathered the worst. Instead, Darren had quietly made a different decision, and on the evening of 12th May 2018, he left home telling Sarah he was going out for milk and cigarettes and never returned.
The following three days were filled with police involvement, desperate searches and agonising uncertainty as Sarah tried to hold everything together for her young son and stepchildren while fearing the worse. Three days later, Darren was found dead in his car in a hospital car park, where Sarah believes he had gone because he did not want his family to be the ones who found him.
Sarah said, “The days that Darren was missing were the most traumatic days of our lives. Every time the phone rang, my heart stopped, and every knock on the door filled us with dread. Part of me knew what had happened, but hope is an incredibly powerful thing. You convince yourself there must be another explanation and that somehow they’re going to walk back through the front door.
“When he was found, everything changed forever. The hardest thing I have ever done was tell my nine-year-old son that his dad wasn’t coming home. As a parent, every instinct you have is to protect your child from pain, but in that moment I was the person delivering the worst news he would ever hear. Watching your child’s heart break in front of you is something that never leaves you.”
The period that followed was consumed by shock, grief and survival. While trying to process the loss of her husband, Sarah was also faced with the practical realities of widowhood. There was a funeral to organise, official procedures to navigate, an inquest still to come, and a young son who needed stability and reassurance during the most difficult period of his life.
Without life insurance and with a child depending on her, Sarah returned to work just four weeks after Darren’s death. Only weeks later, she underwent surgery herself while still trying to navigate the trauma of widowhood. The inquest process meant that closure remained out of reach for months, leaving the family caught between grief and unanswered questions.
Now, eight years later, Sarah is sharing her story publicly for the first time as part of The Widowed Collective’s #WidowedAndForgotten campaign, launched to mark International Widows Day on 23rd June. The campaign is highlighting the hidden loneliness experienced by many widows and widowers long after the funeral has ended and support from others has faded, with members from across the UK speaking openly about grief, isolation and rebuilding life after loss.
For Sarah, who now lives in Lancashire, looking back, she says one of the most difficult aspects of widowhood was realising how quickly support can disappear.
Sarah said, “People are incredibly kind when someone dies and I will always be grateful for that support. The reality, however, is that life naturally moves forward for everybody else while your grief comes with you into every new day.
“Many assume that because time has passed, you’re okay. The truth is that widowhood changes you forever, and there are moments years later when you still need support, but people stop asking how you are because they think you’ve moved on.
“Grief is often seen as the hardest part, but what nobody prepares you for is the moment everyone else’s life starts returning to normal while yours never can. The cards stop arriving, the messages become less frequent, and the phone stops ringing, but you’re still carrying the same loss every single day. That feeling of being forgotten is something so many widows and widowers experience, which is exactly why this campaign matters.”
Sarah is now a board member of The Widowed Collective and credits the organisation with helping her connect with others who truly understand life after loss.
Sarah said, “The Widowed Collective has been invaluable because it connects you with people who genuinely understand widowhood. You don’t have to explain yourself or justify your feelings because everyone there has experienced their own version of loss. That connection can be life-changing, particularly for people who feel isolated or forgotten.
“My advice to anyone facing widowhood is to reach out, even when every instinct tells you not to. Finding people who truly understand doesn’t take away the pain, but it reminds you that you don’t have to carry it alone.”
Natalie Bolton, co-founder of The Widowed Collective, said, “One of the most common experiences we hear about from widows and widowers is not simply grief, but invisibility. People are often surrounded by support in the immediate aftermath of a bereavement, but as time passes that support naturally fades because others assume healing has happened.
“Through the #WidowedAndForgotten campaign, we want to start a national conversation about what long-term grief really looks like and remind people that support, friendship and connection remain important long after the funeral flowers have disappeared.”
The Widowed Collective provides free peer-to-peer support for people who have lost a life partner. Through its online community, practical guidance, events and lived-experience support network, the organisation helps widows and widowers navigate life after loss and find connection with others who understand.