Strong is the last word I’d use to describe me after losing my husband.
Strong is for everyone else. Not me.
Wrong.
Strong means power to withstand what would break the weak.
Strong means watching death approach then retreat, taunting you and teasing you, only to snatch away the most precious person you’ve ever known.
Strong means waking up each day, raising children to be fair and patient in a world marked by unfairness and pain.
Strong means saying no when you know no is no. It also means having the courage to say yes when yes means facing fear and change without him by your side.
Strong means standing when you want to fall. It means bending and accepting and walking forward when your only wish is to go back.
Strong is me. Strong is my family.
Strong is every one of you who walks another day as widowed.
You, are strong. Stand tall today.
Stand strong. 💙
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