Grief is Weird: What I have learned these past six years since my husband died

Hello friends,

Today marks six years since my husband Rick took his life. March 26, 2016, the day before Easter, will always be a difficult day for myself and those who knew and loved Rick. I fluctuate between “I can’t believe it’s been six years” and “where did those six years go?” You’re trying to make sense of the duality of feelings. On the one hand, you feel happy and hopeful for the future yet you’re always brought back to the reality that someone you loved and spent 20 years with is no longer here. And that is so difficult to wrap your head around. Even six years later.

Grief is complicated, murky and weird. Here are nine things I have learned about grief in the past six years:

You don’t move on, you move through. I have heard from other widows I know or in Facebook loss groups how people have told the grieving person to just “move on.” I have never been on the receiving end of a comment like this thankfully but apparently it does happen. What does that even mean? I’m not sure. But what I do know is there is no timeline for grieving and everyone has to process grief in their own way and in their own time. Grief is a matter of the heart – your heart. Don’t let others judge your grieving, tell you to snap out of it or move on. I’m no expert but I’m pretty sure grief lasts a lifetime.

Anger, guilt and regret are normal emotions. Along with feeling sad, lonely and disconnected after your person dies, you are met head on with anger, guilt and regret. These are common emotions whether you lost someone to suicide, cancer or other illness or accident, I have come to realize. Anger at the person who took their life, the medical system that failed them, or the person who caused the accident, are just a few of the people/systems your anger can be directed towards. Guilt and regret that you didn’t do enough to save your loved one, didn’t take them to see a doctor earlier, had an argument just before they died are some of the reasons I have heard that those left behind experience these emotions. And I can relate to much of this but with the help of therapy and time, I have learned to let things go as holding on to this has only had a negative effect on my life and the people around me.

Everyone grieves differently. You don’t know how you will react and process grief until you are faced with it. And guess what? We will all experience grief in our lifetime. Personally, I think I was in shock for the first six months or so and along with the utter sadness, I felt all of those emotions mentioned above. The first two years were the most difficult for myself and my daughter who was 13 when her Dad passed away. We both grieved differently. She didn’t want to talk about her Dad for the longest while or visit the cemetery. She is just beginning to talk more about him and share memories which will help with her healing,

Grief “bursts” happen when least expected. About six months after Rick passed, I decided I was feeling stronger and could go back to work and meet clients without crying or having an emotional breakdown. One day, I had arranged to meet a new client but out of the blue and as I was just about to leave, I started to cry, my mascara was all down my face and I thought, I can’t do this. Not today. I texted the client that I needed to postpone and she texted back something like “I don’t know if you’re unprofessional or just plain lazy but…” Actually, my husband died only six months ago. I now realize that six months is not a long period of time especially after a sudden and tragic loss like suicide or sudden death. To be fair, I didn’t give her a reason as to why I was postponing and maybe I would have been met with a kinder response, had I shared.

You will replay the last weeks, days, hours of their life over and over. This is normal right after a loss, particularly a sudden loss. In my case, I felt it was unhealthy for me to stay in this place for too long. The good thing about time is it lessons the ache of initial grief and all of those could have, should have, would haves that kept you up all night for weeks/months on end.

Death and grief make people uncomfortable. I went on a hike recently with a woman who I hadn’t met before. (She leads hikes/walks and was showing me a trail for a 5K walk I’m helping to plan for a charity close to my heart. More on that soon.) When she asked what the charity was, I explained it was Heartache2Hope which provides support to those who have lost someone to suicide. I followed that up with “my husband took his life six years ago.” I was met with silence. No “sorry for your loss” or “that must be hard.” Just silence. I’m assuming she didn’t know what to say or maybe it was the type of loss and her personal feelings about suicide. In any case, her response to my disclosure left me wondering if I should have shared that with someone who was a complete stranger. But what I do know is that your healing is not dependent on who responds kindly to your grief.

Finding others who are going through the same thing is a lifeline. I didn’t know about any widow groups until about three years after Rick died. I didn’t seek them out but I wish I had in the early days of my grief. I have since met many widows who have become friends and also met people who have lost someone to suicide. We share, we connect, we listen and we understand. I am very aware that all of these people are only in my life because Rick died.

Nothing you do in the present or future will change the love you have for your person. Deciding not to wear your wedding ring, donating their clothes and personal items, dating or even marrying again, all of these actions doesn’t change the love you had for the person who died.

Grief changes you. Along with the inability to sleep, be productive, remember where you put your phone, etc.  your entire DNA has changed. You are not the person you were pre-loss. You may have different priorities, think differently about situations, feel differently about people in your life. You have become stronger and more resilient. I certainly feel that way about myself. I also have become very aware of my own mortality which is a curse but has also prompted me to live life more fully.

It is both a privilege and a joy that I get to live another day. Rick never had that opportunity. I never would have predicted how my life is today. Yes, there is sadness and heartache but there are also beautiful moments of joy, love and laughter which I am so grateful for. If you are newly grieving, you may not see this now. I get it. I was there too. But I promise you, it will get better. And like that song from my daughter’s favourite musical as a child, “The sun will come out tomorrow.”

If you are reading this and have lost someone, I am so very sorry for your loss. xo

You can read two other previous posts about my grief journey here.