One Year Later: Grace, Grief, and Finding My Way

An honest look at my first year as a widow, what my faith has taught me through it, and why I’m slowing down on the blog but not stopping anytime soon.

It’s been a little over a year since Mr. G passed. I’ve started this post about five different times in my head over the last few weeks, and every version came out different because honestly, that’s just what this year has been. Different every single week. Some days I felt like myself again, and other days grief struck me in the head over something as small as a smell or a song on the radio. I figured instead of waiting until I had it all figured out (because I don’t, and I’m not sure anyone ever does), I’d just tell you where I actually am.

A Year of Learning to Live in the In-Between

Nobody really prepares you for what it’s like to be a widow. There’s the first few weeks where people check on you, and then there’s everything after that, which is quieter and honestly harder in a lot of ways. You’re expected to just keep going. Pay the bills, work in the yard, figure out the things your spouse always handled without you even realizing it. Just changing the battery in the fire alarm sets me off. That was Mr. G’s job. I’ve learned this year that grief isn’t a straight line you walk down and come out the other side of. It’s more like weather. Some days are clear and some days a storm rolls in out of nowhere, and you just have to sit in it until it passes.

What surprised me most is how much I still feel Mr. G in my everyday life. Every single time I hear a fire truck go by, I smile because that’s him saying hi. I don’t know why that’s the thing that stuck, but it did, and now I look forward to it instead of it catching me off guard. I see him in the garden, in the way I still automatically save him the last bite of something, and in a hundred little habits I haven’t broken yet and honestly don’t want to. I miss cooking for him and hearing, “That’s a keeper” when he really loved that meal. Football season will never be the same without my rival partner.

Losing a Friend Too

Just a few short weeks after Mr. G passed, I lost a very good gal pal of mine I grew up with. I won’t pretend that grief stacked on grief is anything but brutal. It knocked the wind out of me at a time when I was already barely standing. But it also taught me something I didn’t expect, which is just how precious the friends who are still here really are. I’ve held onto my people tighter this past year. I’ve said the things I might have put off saying before. Life doesn’t give you a lot of warning, so I’d rather say I love you one time too many times than not enough.

Finding My People

One thing nobody tells you about becoming a widow is that you suddenly see a whole different world you didn’t know existed. There are women all around you who have walked this exact road, and once you’re in it, you start finding each other. I’ve connected with several ladies this year who understand this particular kind of loneliness in a way that even the most well-meaning friend who hasn’t lost a spouse just can’t. There’s something about sitting with someone who gets it without you having to explain a single thing. I’m grateful for every one of those women.

How My Faith Has Changed

If there’s one thing I want someone reading this to walk away with, it’s this. My faith has grown so much since Mr. G passed, and a lot of that is because of what he taught me while he was here. He lived by the grace of God, not by a list of laws and rules, and watching him live that way for so many years is finally sinking into my bones now that I’m walking this alone. I used to think faith meant getting everything right. Now I understand it means showing up broken, tired, and unsure, and being met with grace anyway. That’s carried me through more days this year than I can count.

Hopeful, Even Now

I’ll be honest with you, I’m hopeful about the future. Not in a way that erases what I’ve lost, because that’s not how this works and I don’t want it to work that way. But I do believe there’s still a lot of living left for me to do, even without a spouse standing next to me doing it. I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet. Maybe you don’t either, if you’re reading this in your own version of this season. But I believe good things are still ahead, and I hope if you’re walking through something like this too, you’ll believe that right along with me.

A Little About the Blog Going Forward

I want to talk to y’all about something practical too, since I know some of you have wondered about the blog with everything I’ve been through this year. I appreciate all the sweet and kind words everyone has sent me this past year. They truly mean a lot.

I’m slowing down, but I’m not going anywhere. You’ll still see the weekly Wonderful Wednesday Blog Hop show up like always, and I may still share one or two blog posts a month, or maybe just one. I’m just not on a rigid schedule anymore. Some months it’ll be gardening, a low-carb recipe I’m loving, or maybe a trip I have taken, or other months it might be something more personal, like this post. I’m going to write whatever feels like needs to be said that month, instead of forcing content just to fill a calendar. This little corner of the internet has always been about real life for me for the past 15 years, and that’s not changing, even if the pace looks a little different these days.

Thank you for sticking with me this year, for the comments and messages and prayers, more than you probably know. If you’re walking through your own season of loss right now, of any kind, I see you, and I’m sending you so much love. We’re figuring this out together, one ordinary day at a time.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for being part of my little part of the world.

What’s one thing that’s helped you through a hard season in your life? I’d love to hear about it in the comments, friend.