Tag: life

Categories
Grief

Oct. 24th

It’s been a minute since I’ve written. I tend to write when I’m in “the feels”.

I write to clear my head and hope that maybe it resonates with others.

October 24, 2025 would have been our 26th wedding anniversary.

I’m not overcome by sadness because it would have been our anniversary.

It has been almost 5 years and I’m in a good place in my life right now.

But this date still has significance to me.

A few years ago, I would have received several calls, texts or maybe even visits from friends and family letting me know they were thinking of me.

But October 24, 2025, was just an ordinary day to almost everyone else in my life.

It’s like it was never an important day.

And that part made me sad.

I have moved forward in my life but I have NOT forgotten.

I carry with me a complicated pain, but I am lucky, and most days, I move about my daily life freely without sadness.

But, there are also days when the world feels so very heavy and I’m not really sure why I feel so sad.

It’s been almost 5 years… I should be okay right?

After 5 years, it’s not easy to share the pain of your loss with others because many don’t really understand that although I smile through most of my days, the loss still exists.

I have more “free” than “heavy” days but on October 24th, I felt heavy because I had a lifetime with Steve and somehow, it felt like that life was disappearing.

It is TOTALLY okay and healthy for me to move forward but it doesn’t feel right to forget.

When Steve first passed away, I just remember sitting back and watching the world move forward and wondering how almost everyone else’s life was completely unaffected by the loss of my husband.

It was surreal that I still had to figure out dinner and the laundry still needed to get done.

I wasn’t sure how anything would ever be okay again.

And yet, almost 5 years later things are pretty great.

But, October 24th is still an important date.

It’s the date I became a wife and I married the father of my children.

It was the beginning of one of the most important chapters of my life.

So, while I have moved forward and I am happy, I also need to honor our anniversary and acknowledge the loss.

That is complicated.

It is almost like a balancing act.

Make new memories but don’t forget the past.

Allow yourself to be happy but give yourself permission to grieve.

Yes, it’s been almost 5 years, but at times, it seems like only yesterday.

October 24th will never be just a date to me.

For those of you who travel this complicated journey of grief with me, I see you.

It is okay to move forward AND it is okay to not be okay…..

Categories
Grief

Broken

“I met the most broken version of me, but also the strongest.”

I saw this quote on Facebook and it really got me thinking.

Not many people truly meet the most broken version of themselves.

You might have days of sadness but being truly broken is hard to even explain.

Most of us go about our daily lives complaining about things that have gone wrong and we don’t really appreciate what has gone right.

We might complain about the cold weather or the rain.

Or complain about our hair that is too frizzy or the wrong color.

Or perhaps the most common complaint is about how much weight we have gained and how hard it is to lose it.

But when you actually meet the most broken version of yourself it is truly terrifying.

You see your reflection in the mirror and you aren’t really sure who is staring back at you.

It no longer matters that you are carrying a few extra pounds or that your hair isn’t perfect.

You look in the mirror and feel completely defeated.

I was there in December 2020.

And I remained that broken version of myself for a very long time.

Unfortunately, this time of year brings me back to that place.

On December 11, 2020, Steve was intubated.

I can close my eyes and see myself crumbling onto my kitchen floor as the nurse called and told me that Steve was being put on a ventilator. I sat on my floor and listened to the nurses and doctors frantically putting Steve on a ventilator.

I felt completely helpless and afraid.

This was during Covid so I was still teaching virtually and we hadn’t seen Steve since December 2nd.

In between calls from the hospital, I would jump online and teach letters and sight words to kindergartners as I slowly faded into despair.

From December 11th through January 7th, Jared, Shelby and I would call the hospital and ask if they could put the phone up to Steve’s ear.

We would talk to him not knowing what he could or could not hear.

Each night, we would sing a prayer for healing in hopes that God would hear our prayers.

I even recorded the kids opening their Hanukkah presents so that we could show him their excitement when he returned home.

Except he never returned home.

And I met the most broken version of myself.

She was not pretty.

But, thank goodness, she was brave.

It took a lot of time to pull myself out of the darkness.

I clung onto family, friends, grief groups and therapists in hopes that I wouldn’t feel lost forever.

I slowly put my pieces back together and built a version of myself that had to be strong, brave and resilient.

It was truly the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

Some people are truly blessed and they will never meet the most broken versions of themselves.

If you are reading this, and you are one of those people, you are so very lucky.

Even though I have gone through this experience, I often need to remind myself not to get stuck in the minutiae of everyday life.

But writing helps me put some perspective back into my heart so thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts.

Try not to forget that a few extra pounds, unruly hair or a dreary day are not life altering.

And if you do have to meet the most broken version of yourself, remember you can rebuild.

It might take a little time, but be strong and brave.

You don’t have to stay broken forever.

Categories
Grief

Lessons

I have learned a lot over the past few years. In fact, I feel as if my adulting quadrupled when Steve passed away.

Sounds silly since I’ve been an adult for…. well… a lot of years.

But losing someone very close to you, challenges everything you know.

Your belief system.

Your confidence.

Your ability to overcome obstacles.

I am a different person because of my loss.

And I have learned so many lessons over the past 3 years that I would like to share (because I’m a teacher and that’s what teachers do….)

“Everything happens for a reason”.

This is perhaps one of the most difficult beliefs people have and share.

If that is true, then Covid took Steve’s life “for a reason”.

And innocent children die everyday “for a reason”.

Homes and cities are destroyed “for a reason”.

While I do think I have changed and become a stronger and wiser person since we lost Steve, I don’t think he was taken “for a reason”.

I think that when bad things happen, we have to justify it in our hearts and minds so that saying comes into play.

People don’t want to believe that bad things happen with no justification, so we latch onto anything to make the pain feel a little bit better.

But saying “everything happens for a reason” to someone grappling with loss is not helpful.

In fact, it is extremely painful because the survivor is left trying to figure out how to create a better, more meaningful life because there has to be “a reason” they lost their loved one.

Therefore, here is Lesson 1: Everything does NOT happen “for a reason”.

Tragedies cannot be explained away with the thought that “everything happens for a reason” but we can use that belief to help us move forward.

We can do our best to live a meaningful and purposeful life in spite of devastating losses.

Lesson 2: People will surprise you.

As many of you know, when Steve passed away, I was really lost and afraid.

Family, friends and even strangers stepped in to take care of my family.

This, perhaps, was the most humbling part of my loss.

I received plants, cards, and anonymous gifts for months.

My meal train lasted until my sister told me I needed to pull it together and start feeding my own family.

I was astonished by how many people stepped in to help.

The biggest surprise were the people who I really didn’t know and yet, they provided meals and dropped them off at my doorstep!

That, to me, was such an amazing and selfless gift.

I have often heard that we do kind things because it fills our soul and feels good to us.

I think that is really true. Think of how good it feels when someone thanks you for doing something kind.

I know in my case, I enjoy the accolades when I do something kind.

With that being said, I have learned that doing something kind with no belief that you should receive something in return is probably the highest level of giving.

I strive to be one of those people.

To give with no belief that you should receive anything in return is such a wonderfully good deed.

In a smaller sense, it’s like the people in the Starbucks or Dunkin drive up window who pay for the person behind them.

Such a teeny, tiny, good deed and somehow you can easily make someone else’s day.

Don’t get me wrong, this does not minimize, in any way, all of the people who took care of me because they know and love me.

Those are truly my people.

That’s my village.

But I am talking about things that I have learned.

And I have learned that people who give without the caveat of getting something in return are my idols.

I challenge you to do something kind for a stranger today.

See how it feels in your soul. I bet it will warm your heart.

Lesson 3: It is sometimes good to be alone in your home with nothing to do but relax.

I am a people person and a doer.

It is extremely hard for me to sit still and relax.

Growing up, my family rarely sat home and “did nothing”.

I remember our grief groups would often start with meditation and I could never do it.

I have friends who love to sit home and relax all day and the thought of doing that gives me shivers up and down my spine!

But because of my loss, I have had more time alone in my house.

Alone time has given me the chance to explore new hobbies and art forms.

I am, by no means, an artist.

But, I have learned that I can follow the directions of a “teacher” on YouTube and I can create something beautiful.

I have learned that I enjoy beading and I can create bracelets that have meaning and help me be more mindful in my daily life.

I have always loved to write but I have never known WHAT to write but I have learned that I love to write about what I feel in my heart.

Lately, instead of running to get out of my house and “do”, I slow down and take out my drawing paper, my writing or my beads.

I know that meditating isn’t my thing but creating is.

When I am anxious or just when I have some time, I convince myself not to run out to Target to shop but rather to slow down and draw, bead or write.

This creative outlet fills my soul and calms my mind.

Don’t get me wrong, I still feel a little guilty after I “waste” an hour doodling or beading, but I am learning that doing these things helps me heal.

I’m learning it’s okay to slow down and fill my own bucket with some “me time”.

So Lesson 3 is slow down and figure out what fills your soul and calms your mind.

Try a new hobby and see where it takes you.

So, here are my lessons for now:

  • Everything doesn’t happen “for a reason” but I’m trying to make my life matter.
  • Be selflessly kind and giving.
  • Slow down and take time to figure out what fills your bucket.

I wrote this because it helps me clear my mind and fills my heart.

Hopefully, it makes sense to you and gives you a new perspective.

If not, it’s okay. I feel better just because I took the time to slow down and write.

Thanks for reading my writing and make today a great day!