I read a blog, “He Feels Farther Away,” by Dorothy Swanson about what she calls “the middle” part of her grief journey. It’s the place we come to after the shield of shock has long worn off, the tears come less frequently, and the sharp edges of raw pain has dulled. You still miss him every day. You still grieve. But you are in this foggy place of the past you yearn for and the present; of the present and an unknown future without a map.
“The Middle” is a good term for it. I came to that place in the 7th year. I had long stopped breaking down at the site of applesauce in the grocery store, I’d traveled on solo road trips and flown to international destinations, written and published stories, started a widow’s group, and had many wonderful times with family and friends. I got out of bed every morning to face another day without him. Even with all I’d done, my life felt like an overcast day. His death drained the sun out of my sky.
In that 7th year during a milestone birthday, the full head-on force of reality hit me that we’ll never grow old together. It was then that I knew I had to make a decision. I had come to the M
iddle of my grief journey. The middle of many things we do in life is not a place we can come to a standstill. It’s the Deciding place. For widows, it can be a confusing, complicated, and challenging place to be. It’s where you either choose to keep on emotionally “existing“ or when you decide to stand up, face whatever fear is before you and push through into a new mindset and a new way of life.
Moving forward into “living” life can be something as simple as taking up a new hobby, taking lessons or classes in something fun or interesting, socializing to meet new people, changing your fashion style, taking yourself on dates alone, going on local road trips, seeing things with fresh eyes in your own area, and of course being grateful for time with family. Or it can be a big step outside of your comfort zone such as solo traveling, writing a book, starting a business, selling or buying a home, moving to a new location, or even dating. It can be anything that moves you from survival mode into feeling alive and enjoying life again.
Some widows come to this Middle place early on and others after many years. And there may be some who never really come to this fork-in-the-road, but the majority of us who do. When it comes what we choose to do is entirely our own decision. Although the choice is ours to make, and no one has the right to judge or criticize, it is probably wise to seek guidance through prayer or meditation and talking it over with a close deeply understanding friend if it involves a major change or investment.
I knew that I could remain “existing,” appearing on the surface as though I had it together, when inside I was a tangled mess of anxiety, depression, and yearning for the life I loved with him. Or I could choose to “live” again. Albert Einstein said, nothing happens until something moves. So, I chose the path forward. It has not been easy. No matter what we do, grief is never easy.
My husband died 10 years ago. Since that 7th year when faced with a grief decision, I’ve taken risks, faced my fears, and have gone through a lot of trial and error, stumbles and strides to discover and create a new life. There are many different challenges on the other side of the Middle, along with some of the same as before. Grief continues during this transition and transformation, because love continues, it never dies.
Grief, no matter how many years on the journey as a widow, is a formidable and messy companion. Healing remains a day-by-day process beyond the Middle. There are some days I ache with the missing of him. Although it’s become rare, those brutal tsunami grief waves still hit at random unexpected times. Most days my thoughts are on things I need or want to do, but he still lives on in my memories and my heart is full of his love.
I miss my husband every day. I speak of him to those who knew him and those who didn’t. I would rather be living life with him, but that’s not an option. So I am choosing live a new life, discovering who I am at this stage, making new acquaintances or friends, having fun along with making mistakes doing things I’ve never done before, taking risks into new opportunities, and giving birth to new dreams. I am allowing God to weave a sense of purpose from my pain. Even so, this grief journey is the hardest thing I’ve been through.
The other side of this Middle is an eye-opening mixture of fear and faith. It’s mostly 
an enjoyable adventure of self-discovery, new or revived talents and interests, new experiences, new friends, and maybe even a new companion if it’s meant to be. Through it all, I believe my husband, the one my heart and soul continues to love, is cheering me on all the way. “I’ll live my life with new experiences, so when it’s my time to return Home honey, we’ll have so much to talk about.” (Unknown).
