What moving forward from Ken's death means to me after three and a half years:
Not being defined solely by what I've lost (although it remains a huge part of my identity).
Beginning to be willing to take on new challenges.
Time to admit that I might find another partner and I might not. Stop obsessing about it.
Accepting that loneliness is a sometimes part of this new life.
Acknowledging the great strength and sense of groundedness that I've gained through this hardship.
An ability to not worry as much since nothing else even compares to living through Ken's illness and death.
A greater appreciation for the good that I have.
The desire to help others who are in pain.
Grasping my role as a single parent and growing in confidence that I can take on what the kids need to the best of my ability.
Accepting that single people are rarely included in couple activities.
The deep understanding that life is finite.
The realization that I am still fortunate even though I lost the best friend I ever had, the person I loved more than anyone else ever, the one who I trusted completely, who made me laugh, whose perspective I understood, who I had chidren with, who I lost three and a half years ago.
- Jill Schacter
- My wonderful husband died when I was 44 years old. Being widowed this young happens to less than 3% of married people. Writing through this loss one word at time helps me understand what I've lost and helps me continue to grow. It is how I have gradually recovered from such a severe loss. Research shows that you can benefit from taking just 15 minutes a day to write out your deepest feelings as a way of healing. On the right side of this blog, you'll see a tag for Exercises to Try. If you need some help knowing how to use writing to help heal yourself, I suggest you start there.