The Decision to Reach for Life

 I want to write today, about the decision to reach for life after experiencing a devastating loss. 

After my Brian died, a lot of people were quick to tell me how strong & resilient I was. I was praised for my numbness at his funeral, the shock that allowed me to continue to function & survive. 

I remember in early grief, I felt like I had no choice but to keep on living, to keep getting up every day. It wasn't that I wanted to - being awake was unbearably painful - but I knew that I had no choice, for my young daughter but also for the other people who loved me. 

I marvelled at the stubborn ability of my body to keep on functioning, despite me treating it like absolute garbage. I couldn't eat and I lost a lot of weight. I remember I was complimented for how "good" I looked. It was confusing & bizarre. I had never felt so horrible. 

The ironic thing about my experience - and I know so many of yours as well - is that the timing lined up exactly, where my loss began to feel real & grey & really sink in at the exact same time as when it became old news for everyone else. 

There was a long murky middle for me, a time when I felt very alone in my grief. A time when it was still so visceral, so all-encompassing - but it looked on the outside like I was fine. I've written a lot about this liminal space - and it's the reason I started this business & the I See You, Sister Widows Community. 

But there also came a time, when I decided that I wanted to reach for life. I don't know if it was one specific moment - probably more like a series of moments (because grief is so elastic) - but for me, it was a decision I had to make...and I had to be ready to make...

I decided that I wanted to live & to hope & to reach for peace in all the moments that I could. 

It wasn't that my grief went away or even got smaller - it was that I decided I was going to reach for something else too, something else around it, beside it, and within it. 

Even if that meant other people misunderstood me & thought I was "done" grieving. 

Even if it felt like an epic amount of work (it often does). 

Even if the people around me never truly saw how difficult all of this was. 

Even if...

I believe, whole-heartedly, that after a soul crushing loss, the decision to get up every morning and choose to reach for life, is an incredible one.

Feeling happiness takes effort.

In my experience, this wasn't something I could force. And I don't know if forcing would have worked, even if I could. For a long time, it wasn't even possible. And then one day, it was. 

But here's the thing - even once it was possible - it was still hard. It was still a choice. 

You likely already know this, beautiful reader - but for anyone who hasn't experienced this themself - I want to tell you now: When you see a griever smiling, laughing, dating, or traveling - you likely have no idea how much energy & tenacity is behind that. You see, they’re not over their loss & they’re not “better” - they’re choosing to do it while their loss remains just as cavernous as it was the first moment you heard about it.

I remember last summer, I had a big grief-y cry while sitting in my backyard, looking up at the trees and feeling so grateful for this new life I have built. 

I was thinking about how hard I have worked since Brian died, just to feel and reach for happiness. How much effort I have put into this decision to hold my arms up and wrap them around life - over & over & over again. 

So. Much. Work. 🤯

The part most people would never see & understand is how it’s still, to this day, an epic amount of effort to reach for joy. 

I’ve had to become an expert at flexibly navigating the ebb & flow of grief. The dance of sorrow, quiet, heartbreak, depth, gratitude, connection, play, & happiness - over and over and over… and it never ends. Because with each new layer, another is presented. 

As our daughter grows, there are more & more versions of her that exist in this new world, a world where he died & there will always be the other world - where he didn’t. 

I often forget to stop & really honour how much my capacity has grown. I have learned how to really live alongside a loss I thought would break me. It’s truly astounding!!! 

And just because reaching for joy takes effort, it doesn’t make it any less joyful. In fact, maybe it’s even better - because I don’t take it for granted. 

This is how grief deepens us. Because choosing to build & love & see beauty in a life we absolutely never wanted - a life that is based around the worst thing imaginable happening - that is a feat beyond anything. 🤍