Baby steps.

Open your eyes.
That’s one.
Get out of bed.
That’s two.
That’s three.

This is how it has to be in the beginning. Gentle and unassuming because grief is not. The cycle is exhausting, it tries to destroy you. To pull you under. And it very well may. Remaining tender and kind towards yourself in those moments are the most crucial.

Even if all you do is wake up and cry. Allow it to take over, let the grief cover you completely and when you feel like you can come up for air, that’s when you take step four.
This process will last however long you need, however long you want.
Your heart will decide how long it takes.
No one else.
No books, conversations, or blogs.
Not me, not them.
No one but you and your heart.

And that is okay. This is how it should be. If you try and mend a broken heart for anyone other than yourself, you will never truly heal. But if you allow yourself to wallow in the sadness, to immerse yourself in the painful reality of what has happened, you will start to recover.

There is no quick fix.

Grief is savage, and you have to allow it to rip you apart so you can slowly put yourself back together again. You may realize that you are not the same person and reconfiguring this new you may not be a simple process. There will be parts of who you were that you won’t want to transfer over into this new version.

This new life.

This new chapter.

And there will be parts of you, the authentic you, that will automatically transpire, no work necessary. This is why it is absolutely imperative that you take baby steps.
Instead of looking at the big picture, break it down into steps, chapters, moments.
Give yourself permission to only live for the day. To accept life as it comes because you and I know all too well that we do not know the whole story.

We won’t until the end has come.
And that’s okay.
The beginning and end aren’t what matter.
The middle.
The girth of our existence, that is where we thrive, where we break and build ourselves back up again.
Where the love remains.
The now.
That’s where it’s at.

Baby steps, my friend.
And remember to just breathe.


Who am I? I am a mother, a friend, a daughter and most recently, a widow.
On August 12, 2016 my husband died and I went with him. I have been spending my days since trying to rediscover who I am. Slowly and painfully, the real Lindsey began to emerge from the rubble. I was unsure of my purpose but diligently pushed through and fought for something that offered a glimmer of hope. Through many long days of uncertainty and pain I finally realized that I am bigger than my tragedy, that grief has many faces, it’s not just tears.There is more, so much more and I intend on embracing every bit. I am here. I am hope. I am love. She also writes and shares her heart on her personal blog called Grief Deposit. You can also find her on Instagram sharing her journey at @beatrixsgarden