The moment you lose someone you dearly love, it feels like your world stands still. But grief doesn’t stop the rest of life from moving. The sun still comes up. The alarm still goes off. The laundry basket still fills up. Your child still asks what’s for breakfast. Emails still come in. Appointments need to be made. Groceries need to be bought. The world keeps moving, even when you’re not ready to go with it.
This summer, I lost my husband. The love of my life.
Even writing those words still feels unreal. There is a clear line in my life now: before and after. Before, there were two of us figuring out this messy life together. After, there is me learning how to carry pieces of a life I was never supposed to carry alone. But motherhood doesn’t really give you the option to stop. My son still needs me. He needs his mom. And I am still his mom, even on the days when I don’t quite recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror.
Motherhood Keeps Calling Me Back
There are days when I would happily stay under the covers and let the world continue without me. But then I hear, “Mom.” Sometimes it’s important. Sometimes he needs help. And sometimes I apparently need to see something extremely urgent involving Minecraft.
For a moment, I’m pulled back into right now.
Motherhood hasn’t erased my grief or made it easier. And our children should never carry the responsibility of healing us. But being his mom gives me a reason to keep participating in my own life. He deserves a childhood filled with joy, even while we are grieving.
Moving Forward Isn’t the Same as Moving On
I’ve started to realize there is a difference between moving forward and moving on.
I don’t want to “move on.” I don’t ever want to pretend our beautiful life never happened. I will never forget the big and small moments, the laughs, the challenges, the friendship, the love, or the man he was. But I am learning how to move forward while carrying the grief with me.
Some days are incredibly hard, and the smallest thing can send me into a spiral of grief. A song, a place, a memory; so much of everyday life reminds me of him, of the life we shared, and of how quickly he was taken from us. On those days, moving forward can feel almost impossible.
Other days, moving forward looks big: working on my business, writing, advocating, and making plans for the future. Most of the time, though, it’s in the mundane. Getting out of bed. Making coffee. Driving my son to therapy. Making plans for next month. Buying something for an event weeks away and realizing that somewhere inside me, I apparently believe I’m going to make it there.
Maybe You Don’t Have to Be Ready
I’m beginning to wonder if “ready” is ever actually coming.
Maybe sometimes you just begin. You make the coffee. Answer the email. Drive to therapy. Show up for your child. Cry when it hurts. Then wake up the next morning and do some version of it all over again.
Right now, I’m learning I don’t have to move at the same speed as everyone else. I just need to keep leaning into God, trusting Him with what I can’t carry, and taking life one step at a time.
