Friday, I felt off most of the day I couldn’t place what was wrong at first. Then mid-day it dawned on me that someone had tried to comfort me the day before by giving me a hug.  As much as people think that is helpful for me hugs don’t bring comfort.

I am not a touchy-feely person. Matt is the only person that has ever been able to hug me and I am okay. Comfort no longer comes from hugs. And there are days like Friday that I long for that hug. Wish he could.

Now I seek comfort in other things. Drawing is the one thing that always seems to work. It gets those messy thoughts out of my head.

My grandma’s house was one of the things that brought me comfort it was always there and so was she in everything that life threw at me. This week was the first week in my house and the change in scenery has done me good.

Yesterday I went back to the house to grab more things and the sense of home that use to be there is no longer in fact it brought sadness. The thing that made it home and comforting were the people that I had there. In a way I saw that moving was the best thing for me.

I am a routine person so without Matt I took on a new routine with grandma. Instead of saying I love you every night to him, I said it to her. Now my house is my home and I wake up make my coffee and grab what I need and walk out the door. There is comfort in walking through the door at the end of the night and knowing that I am creating a home.

Today we celebrated my dad’s birthday. We had a Barbeque at my house. And there was comfort for me seeing all the kids hanging out in the house and then playing outside. Driving Tiernan back home and talking about what is going on in his life.

I find comfort in having his family still include me. To still call Wendy my mother-in-law and invite her to my house. Being invited to the family weekend away. Being comforted by my father-in-law coming to my grandma’s funeral knowing that if I need them they will be there.

Hugs may no longer be the thing that comforts me. But I have a whole group of people that will make sure that I am okay. People that will worry about me and check-in. And while it is not a Matt hug it is almost as good.

My heart is starting to heal. I am not sad in my new home. My home will see many parties in the future with all the people that I love. I can’t wait to have my girls over for a pour-it-out night. My heart is not empty it just needed to be reminded that there are still so many people that I love and love me.

No one can replace Matt. But they can take the broken pieces and start to mend them. My new home has brought me comfort that I didn’t know was still possible.


Laurel became a young widow on October 2, 2020, her husband Matt had a heart attack he was only 37. Matt was a juvenile diabetic and they always knew he would die young but she never thought that she could be a widow at 32. Navigating grief with anxiety, regrets and guilt have been a struggle for Laurel. They had gotten into a fight days before he died and they had talked about divorce. One of the things that helped her the most is finding other widows who understood the pain she was feeling. In February she decided to start writing her story. Self-care is something else she started to do daily and art has become her outlet to get what she is feeling out which she shares on her Instagram. Being a young widow comes with its own challenges but we are not alone in this journey.
You can find her on Instagram @HealingPorcupine or her personal blog link-