Six Weeks of Grief Hell

This week begins what I refer to as our six weeks of grief hell. Steven will be graduating eighth grade on Saturday. And for many, that’s not a big deal. But when you’ve been at the same school, with the same people since you were four years old, that’s a huge change. A change his dad will not be here to see.  Each event this week to celebrate his graduation, will only serve to remind Steven that his dad can’t be here to celebrate with us. And Sunday is not only Mother’s Day, it’s also Steven’s birthday. Another day his dad should be here. Then comes June. And we have Jared‘s birthday, my birthday, and Father’s Day. More days, more reminders that Jared isn’t here. More milestones, more events that Steven and I will celebrate without Jared.  And yes, we will celebrate. Because even though Jared is gone, life and it’s accomplishments deserve to be celebrated.

I’m looking forward to celebrating Steven’s accomplishments this week.  I’m just not looking forward to the grief that is also sure to come. But I will find a way to honor both the joy and the sorrow.  The bitter and the sweet. All while making Steven feel loved. After all, this is his week!

#bigchangesahead

#congratulationsSteven

#6weeksofgriefhell

#bittersweet

National Widow Day

Today is National Widow's Day.  And unfortunately, I am a member of that club.  A club I never wanted to join.  But I am surrounded by some of the strongest men and women I know.  We support each other.  Lift each other up.  Hold each other when we need to cry.  Commiserate about being alone.  Discuss the hardships of solo parenting.  I'm not sure how I would have survived without my widowed tribe.

Many in my widowed community also lose their friends and family when their spouse dies.  But I am also blessed to have amazing friends and family who supported me on my grief journey.  Who continue to support me.  Who are always willing to help.  To listen.  Who help keep Jared's memory alive. Who celebrate my newfound joy.   Who understand that 2.5 years is forever and yesterday all at the same time.  Who continue to miss and love Jared but at the same time are willing to open their hearts to my new beginning.

This widow journey is not one I would wish on anyone.   And given the option,  I would give my widow card back in a heartbeat.  But that is not an option.  So instead I will march on. I will wear the title of widow proudly, with honor.  Being a widow means I was loved until Jared took his last breath.  It was my privilege to be Jared's last love.

Today on National Widow's Day, do every widow you know a special favor. Talk about their dead spouse.   Speak their name.  As a widow one of the most painful things is to the think that others have forgotten your late spouse.  Remember, that our lives were forever changed in a single moment.  Our life as we knew it ended when our spouse died.  The future we had planned vanished, never to happen. Our present became one of basic survival.  We no longer felt whole, complete.  A part of us died in that moment.   And our loss should not and cannot be ignored. Our loss shaped us into who we are now.  Someone new, someone who has lived in darkness and fought their way back to the light.

Acknowledge our loss.  Don't ignore it, change the subject, or refuse to speak their name.  These actions are hurtful, they make us feel alone.  Like an outcast.  Today of all days, honor a widow.  Remember their life before death.  Speak their spouse's name.  Honor a love so deep that even death cannot end it.

To all my widowed friends, I'm sorry we are walking this journey.  That we know this pain. This struggle.  But I am grateful that I do not have to do this alone.  So today on National Widow's Day, I honor my widow tribe.  I honor my love story.  And I will continue to look for hope and happiness.

#widowsrock
#NationalWidowsDay

Parenting A Grieving Child

My grief, I can typically handle. I can figure out a way to manage and cope. But Steven’s grief,  that’s a whole other story.

When you’re parenting a grieving child, you do your best to make them feel safe. To feel loved. To give them all the reassurance they need.  Watching your child grieve is one of the most helpless feelings in the world. When Steven’s grief is deep and raw, it knocks me to my knees. Seeing him struggle to process all of his emotions shakes me to my core.  Makes me question every decision I’ve made. Makes my heart ache that my child has to know so much pain and sadness. That a part of his innocence is forever lost. That he is keenly aware that people die and no one is promised tomorrow.  That he will always wonder what his dad would think. That his life is forever marked before and after.

For the most part, Steven has done really well since Jared died. He has an amazing heart. Is so very kind. And has faith that would move mountains. But there are days, those awful days when grief takes hold of him and he just can’t shake it.  That he feels lost. That he’s just a little boy missing his dad. And those are the days that make me feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Make me wish I had a magic wand and could make it all better. That make me wish I could forever protect him.  But I can’t. Unfortunately, grief is a part of his life. And it always will be. I’m just thankful the bad days are few and far between. Because my mama heart can’t handle watching my baby suffer. My grief I can handle. Steven’s grief, not so much.