Grief – A Very Personal Journey
What we once enjoyed and deeply loved we can never lose, for all that we love deeply becomes part of us. Helen Keller
Dear Gentle Soul,
Grief is a winding path—never straight, never predictable. What follows is a deeply personal reflection on my journey through loss, along with some thoughts and gentle suggestions for those who may be walking a similar path.
The Weight of Multiple Losses
From 2008 to 2018, I lost three of the most important people in my life: my dad, my mom, and my husband. And near the end of 2018, I lost my rescued dog Spike. Each loss was deeply personal, and how I reacted to each was as unique as the relationship I had with that loved one—even when that loved one had four legs instead of two.
Grief is Not a Competition
No one's grief journey is the same, and you should never compare your loss with someone else’s. I remember it had been approximately a month after losing my husband when a friend from church asked if I wanted to meet for coffee. I agreed. We were having a pleasant conversation when I confided that I was having a hard time adjusting to life without my husband. Instead of offering comfort, she replied, 'Well, imagine what that family from church is going through who just lost their son to suicide.' Of course, that was a tragedy, but how was that supposed to help me? Was my grief any less because I lost a husband and not a child? I never had children, so I can’t begin to imagine that kind of grief—but please, don’t minimize or compare anyone's grief. That’s not how we comfort each other.
There is No Timetable
I genuinely believe that grief never leaves us; it just matures as we learn to live with the absence of our loved ones. In its early stages, grief can overwhelm. We’re suddenly thrust into a life we didn’t ask for. The days following a loss are often filled with funeral arrangements and well-meaning visitors. But once the flowers fade and people return to their routines—which they should—you are left to navigate this new normal, often in silence. That, my dear friend, can be a herculean effort.
My Grief Walk
After I lost my husband, I walked…a lot. I called it my grief walk. It became a vital part of my healing. With tissues stashed in my pockets, I would head to the lake and sit on the bench we often shared. My husband loved the lake, and being there helped me feel closer to him. In those quiet moments, I cried, prayed, remembered—and slowly, very slowly, I started to breathe again.
How Grief Changes Over Time
It’s been years since my losses, and while grief still visits me, it has changed. It's softer now, more reflective than raw. Sometimes it arrives unexpectedly—a smell, a song, a memory. But now, I welcome it as a reminder of the love that remains. I've learned to laugh again. To find joy. And to honor those I’ve lost by living fully.
If You're Grieving, Consider These Suggestions
Take long walks or sit quietly in nature. This helped me immensely!
Keep a grief journal—write whatever comes.
Talk to a trusted friend, therapist, or support group. My trusted friend was always there for me, and she still is today.
Create a memory box or altar at home.
Light a candle on meaningful dates.
Allow yourself to cry, rest, and be gentle with your heart.
Final Thoughts
To anyone grieving: you are not alone. Grief has no expiration date, no straight line, no 'right' way. Wherever you are on your journey, be kind to yourself. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It means remembering with more love than pain.
With gentle blessings,
Beth