Life Goes On

My birthday next month has me thinking about the passage of time. Death is a part of life, yet we deny our mortality at every turn. When a loved one dies, we experience a huge array of feelings. Though everyone’s experience differs, I think many feel an inherent sense of unfairness and disbelief. Managing the deep sadness of early loss can feel impossible. Indeed, those of us who experience a life-altering loss feel its weight long after everyone else resumes their normal lives. I distinctly recall a sense of being alone in my grief within the first year of my loss, particularly as friends and family who provided critical support got back to the business of daily life. At that point, I simply could not get back to my forever-altered reality.

As time passed, I slowly saw changes in my grief. In my spousal loss support group, we talk about whether grief itself changes through the passage of time or, instead, if we ourselves are changed by our grief. Some believe grief softens over time, while others maintain that grief shifts who we are. I tend to lean toward the latter interpretation, viewing grief as a sort of hidden disability that we carry with us. As we start to heal, grief can become like a super power, allowing us to see others’ pain with an x-ray-like vision and become the most empathic and caring version of ourselves.  Either way you view it, it is an evolution on the path of loss.  

I believe many long-term grievers eventually reach yet another stage: one of acceptance and peace. I see this as a healthy evolution as we adapt to our new reality and find ways to thrive within it. At some point after Brad died, I came to an epiphany. I recall saying out loud to almost anyone who would listen: ”Brad died, but I did not.” While it may seem obvious and perhaps sound callous to those unfamiliar with the reality of loss, it is a statement that is underpinned by love. In my case, I believe I finally found a way to honor my late husband while simultaneously honoring my own need to live fully. By finding the self-love my late husband would have wanted for me, I could realize that my life could and should go on.