He slipped the ring on my finger, and our family was born. My time of being unmarried had ended. Our five children ushered early parenthood with sleepless nights and a dedicated commitment to each other, to our little ones.
And in 2013, cancer visited us, and we embarked on a journey that lasted 5 years until his death. A long and arduous struggle walking up a hill of sand.
He passed.
And a season of grief emerged. Heaviness, heartache, a sorrow I’ve never seen before even when I’ve seen my widowed friends grieve right before me.
It’s marked by unspeakable pain, sadness, depression, despair, and loneliness.
But in this short window of time, there’s an unparalleled chance to grow. To take stock in who we are, what we value, and who belongs in our life. To reflect and learn, discard and discern.
The window will soon close. I’ll not be able to so viscerally relate to those who have freshly broken hearts as I can now. I’ll have taken the perfect parts of my husband with me as I sit on the sand in the next season of my life.
Winter will be behind, forgotten not. And this precious time where my heart is healing and my mind exploring will be closed.
Knowing that as surely as his life ended, so will my time in sacred grief.
As it should. 💙
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