Grief never really gets “better.”

Just a few weeks away from 3 years without my precious husband and I really don’t feel “better.” After three years comes the realization for me that there really is no such thing as better after this kind of a loss. You do your best to survive the next 5 minutes, next hour, next day, then week, and then all of a sudden even though you couldn’t imagine ever making it through even one year, you find you managed to make it through three. Widowhood seems to be the art of learning how to carry on with a significant piece of you always missing, kind of like how a person who has lost a limb has to continue living, just in a totally new and foreign way.

I look back and I can see that three years ago, I lost my life too. I didn’t die physically. My heart still beats and I awake each morning, but the way of living that I loved that felt like it made life worth living died when my husband did. So did the light in my eyes and the energizing carefree feeling of being in love. I am less of a dreamer now. Less excited for the future because I know he will never be in it, and of course more lonely. The greatest best friend I could ever have asked for was ripped away, and the wound sometimes still feels raw. I hate that I can’t talk to him. How will I ever feel better if I can’t even talk to him?

Our identity as a couple and my identity as a wife gone in a blink. My ability to parent as a Mom on a fantastic team with their Daddy, forever derailed. It is a heavy thing when you realize that living with the loss is your assignment for the rest of your life…or maybe instead of assignment we can say plague or curse. It truly does feel that way sometimes. Young widowhood in particular feels like being set apart of suffer for the rest of the decades of your life. If I live as long as my mother currently is, then I could count on another 40 years of bearing this scar, and feeling this hole in my heart. That is a daunting thing to reflect on.

Thankfully I know that I can’t always listen to my feelings. And thanks be to God for never leaving us alone in our trials and tribulations, though I don’t think I will ever understand why allowing this to happen in our lives was ever a good idea. Some things I just need to accept I was never meant to fully understand.

About 

Dorothy lost her beloved husband Oct 2021 to a very unexpected bacterial pneumonia that quickly became septic shock. Her other half and best friend was born with a serious congenital heart defect. Because of that, she had always feared the possibility of being a widow, but she thought it more likely to be due to his heart, and more likely when her husband was in his 50s after the children were grown. Instead, he graduated to heaven just one week before turning 34. Dorothy was 36 with young sons ages 5 and 16 months who adored their Daddy. In less than 48 hours, the life Dorothy and her beloved husband so carefully built together shattered. They were blessed to share just over 8 wonderful, joyous and fun years of marriage. While her heart is so thankful to God for having had their journey together, she has struggled since his death with feeling hurt and let down by God. She has felt so devastated that their love story was short and ended so abruptly. Join her as she shares her unfolding journey of grasping to faith in Christ as she journeys through love, loss, single parenthood, honoring her husband's legacy and guiding her sons through their grief and life without Daddy.