Grief Transforms – Light at the Margin

I was sitting at my writing desk the other day, thinking about this article.

I asked myself: How do I sum up my grief journey now that I am on this side of a very difficult process? How do I give hope to someone who is still in the early stages of grief? Are they ready to know that there is new life on the other side of the journey….even a new life that they will be happy in?

I am a much different person now than when I started my journey. So maybe a brief retrospective will help. My journey is not necessarily the same as anyone else’s. But it is an example.

My Story Now as a Widow

I recently moved into an apartment that is entirely set up just for me. It is the first space like this in my whole life. I went from my parents’ home to simple accommodations with roommates. Then I met and married my husband with whom I built a life for over 50 years.

Even when he died, I continued to live in the same space for another 5 years. That space was full of memories of him and our life together.

In those 5 years I was trying to figure out who I am now without him. What will I do with my time, talents and interests? Could I hold onto old friends, or did I need to find new members for my ‘tribe’? Did I even want people in my life, or would I be happy isolating myself in my grief? I stayed pretty much to myself, not exactly anti-social but in many ways struggling with fatigue, finding it hard to leave my place, even to get groceries. My best incentive to get out into the world was to meet friends, especially if they would take the initiative and do the driving.

Finally, this year, the opportunity came up for me to move into a new space. It was a case of opportunity meeting. Part of me was strong enough to consider change and put a plan of action into place, and another part of me was terrified. I liked my old neighbourhood and the apartment I shared with my husband, so the thought of moving was a mixture of anticipation, nostalgia and trepidation.

Moving household was hard. My husband and I had moved household several times in our 50 years together; this was the first time I had to make all the decisions myself. It wasn’t scary (or maybe it was) but I certainly felt the weight of having to handle any complications that might arise without anyone to consult or take on the resolution for me.

Also, I had to downsize. Choosing what to take with me and what to discard was a bit like discarding my life, shedding the old and preparing for the new. Bit by bit, I was transitioning from being a wife to being single. I was happy to be creating a new life and, at the same time, sad to leave the old one.

Grief is a response.

I titled this Grief Transforms – Light at the Margin I wanted to say Light at the End of the Tunnel but that implies that grief ends and that would be misleading.

Grief is a response to an event of trauma or deep loss. Grief does not end; our response to it does soften over time and life continues to envelope it. It adds to the tapestry of our life.

Where I am Now in My Journey

The truth is that grief will never not be a part of who I am now. I still am caught by surprise now and again by feelings of loss. I still remember all the difficult life challenges I have navigated in recent years and in times past.

The difference at this end of the journey is that I am more fully me.

Now, as I write this piece, the move is done. I survived. It is my own space; created just for me, by me. I am calm. I am settling into this new phase of my life with contentment and gratitude. I have old and new ‘tribe’ members. I have a new career, which is the natural outcome of all I have experienced and learned in the last 10 years…and longer.

In my retirement I have the time and energy to share my compassion and, I hope, wisdom with other grievers and their supporters.