Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult
as spending our lives running from it.

Brené Brown

I finally had enough strength to sit up in my bed. My eyes were swollen, and my head was pounding from what seemed like hours of crying. My first thought was, “I’m not going to make it to December.”

That was in June 2021. My husband, Rick, had died unexpectedly the month prior. I was overwhelmed with grief and stress. From the moment I received the news of his death until a week after his funeral, my adrenaline was in high gear.

The adrenaline was how I was able to plan and execute his funeral. It carried me through, even though during that entire time, I was holding a tremendous amount of pain, hurt, confusion, and fear throughout my body. Those feelings had been living inside me for some time prior to his death, but they intensified to a level I was sure I could not withstand. His death was untimely, and for me, it happened at the worst possible stage in our marriage.

Rick and I were separated when he passed away. I would have never predicted that our love story would end this way. Our separation was no reflection on the deep love I had for him. It felt unfair that it had ended the way it did. Now, any hope I had for us was gone. I knew my life would never be the same. But I had no way of knowing just how much my life was about to change.

Following Rick’s funeral, all I wanted to do was talk to my Grandma Gray. I wanted to hold her hand while we sat in silence on her couch. I wanted to hear her voice and words of wisdom. I wanted to cry on her shoulder. She was a safe harbor for me. I knew I was loved by her no matter what.

However, I couldn’t sit with her because she had passed away four months before Rick. I was grieving her death as well. I was deeply saddened that two of the most significant loves of my life died within months of each other.

My dear father-in-law, with whom I shared a kind love, had also died ten months prior to Rick’s passing. I was missing him as well.

Now, sitting up, I slid back against my headboard, tilted my head back, and placed my hands on my heart. I began doing a breathing meditation in hopes that it would ease the pain in my head. I was also trying to slow down all of the thoughts that were swirling in my head.

It took some time, but I felt myself settle into a calm state. In that calm state, a passage from the bookDaring Greatly by Dr. Brené Brown popped into my head.