At a counseling session, I was asked what I would say to myself in the early months of grief. “Hope” is the word that came to mind. I would relay the message that there is hope and that the fog will lift. Here’s what I would say:
Dear Diana,
Today you are in a complete fog of disbelief, anguish, pain, and deep sorrow. Monty was killed—what a horrible statement. Right now, that statement doesn’t exist in your vocabulary or thought life. You longingly stare at doors, expecting him to come in with his sweet smile, playful eyes, and incredible voice. Each night you lay in bed, alone, until sleep finally overcomes you, although sometimes sleep doesn’t have enough power over your tears. You wander through your days asking yourself, “What’s the point?” You yell at God for taking the love of your life way too early.
Believe that the fog will lift.
You go to the grocery store out of sheer necessity but are still in shock. How can people be smiling and laughing? How is life still moving while you stand still in the moment of grief? Everything on the shelves reminds you that you’re alone—no need to buy Monty’s sweet pickles or dark chocolate. Eating is a struggle so you buy a paltry amount of food just to get by.
Believe that the fog will lift.
You will begin to understand that this horrible event wasn’t orchestrated by God. A man killed Monty. There was nothing you could do to magically change that outcome.
Believe that the fog will lift.
People, even family, begin to get impatient with your behavior. They make comments like, “What’s bothering you now?” “You’ll get over it,” “You need to move on,” or “You’ll find someone else.” Your responses resonate loudly in your mind. My Monty being killed will bother me for the rest of my life and I will never get over it or move on. He set the bar so high, the thought of someone else is unimaginable.
The fog will lift.
People are uncomfortable around grief and can say the wrong things. With time, you will filter comments and verbally respond without compromising your grief. You use statements like, “I just miss Monty” “You don’t get over the love of your life” “There’s no moving on; just going through,” or “I’m not ready for someone else.”
You will speak Monty’s name more freely and encourage others to do so. Thoughts of him will constantly pop into your mind and not all those thoughts will be accompanied by sadness. When looking at photos of Monty, you will smile and even laugh. Monty brought joy to your life and eventually that joy will bubble out at the most unexpected times.
The fog will lift.
As time goes on, friendship takes on a new meaning. Acquaintances will become dear friends, new friends will be made, and close friends will get even closer.
You will begin to make decisions that are your own decisions like taking on a new job, running a race, making changes to the house, and taking a drawing class. In your heart, you will continue to seek his approval but your heart will also tell you that Monty wants you to be happy.
I know you may not want to hear how Monty wants you to be happy. Like me, you just want him back. That won’t change but your heart will tell you he does want you to be happy.
The fog will lift so you can experience joy, happiness, and love during your grief.
About Diana Henderson
Diana’s heart was shattered on May 6, 2022, when a reckless driver took the life of her husband, Monty, while walking across the street to go to work. Even though they were married for a mere seven years, Monty was her soulmate, best friend, true love, and entire life. They had been friends since 2008 and became one in 2014. The pain was crushing and intense. The future they planned of retirement and “happily ever after” was abruptly brought to an end. And so began the horrible roller coaster ride called Grief along with the new label of Widow.
By God’s grace and with the support of her family and close friends, she has continued to live moment by moment and day by day. She strives to put together the pieces of her shattered heart, knowing that it will never be the same but that it is still capable of love. Through praying, journaling, counseling, and meditating she works through the many phases of grief over and over again. Her hope is that the pain will permanently soften. She will continue to move forward by honoring Monty’s love and memories and becoming the new Diana that Monty will help to create.
Ann, whenever I hear a widow’s story I feel such a kinship. I’m most comfortable with widows because we get each other and our experiences draw us closer together. Thank you for reading and leaving your comment.
You summed up my experience so aptly (with some slight variations on details of losing our beloveds) that I thought had wrote it.
I’m three years out and the devastating pain, disbelief, and fog has softened, though there are mornings and evenings like today that I still yearn so strongly for him.
Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing.