We are all on a Journey

In those early months after Jim died, as I did what I call the zombie walk, I wondered how the world could keep turning, how people could continue to go on with their mundane activities. I could scarcely breathe!  Later I realized, people all around us are each on their own journey out of their own valley. We each just have to keep getting up. We are all suffering and so, for me, I have learned to be more forgiving, more accepting. Because of my grief, I am able to feel deeper and have more compassion for all souls. 

Along the way, I may recognize a fellow traveler, still on their way out of the valley. I’m not out of my valley yet, and I may never be. In this second year, I am simply sad. Sometimes I stumble or double back.That blanket of grief is still available to me, but like a child starting their first day of school, I can leave it at home (or stash it in my backpack), secure it the knowledge it is there for me when I need it. Though I did not think it possible, I have moved forward and upward. My load is made lighter by the things I can let go of, by the support I get along the way, and the days are getting brighter. But my journey continues. I wake up every morning, I still have to decide to get up and go on. With the help of my family, friends and my grief support team, I know I am not alone on my journey.

In the fall of 2014, a little over six months after Jim's death, a friend of mine had arranged tickets for us to see Oprah. I was reluctant to go at that time in my life, but decided to embrace the opportunity. We were challenged to write about our own vision of “The Life You Want”.… 

This vision continues to be my goal.  … here's part of my vision statement: My life is filled with joy and I am at peace. I feel and share the love of my family, both my family of choice and my family of birth..... I am mindful and aware... My life has meaning. My grief and loss have made me a stronger, deeper, more compassionate person. My fear is done. I have no anger. I am present. My heart is open and I am connected to the world.  I trust. I matter.  I am truly blessed.  I choose gratitude. I choose happiness. I choose life.


And so, here I am, a short 27 months after my husband was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. I am able to share our story and live my life in a way I never dreamed possible. May you, too, choose gratitude, choose happiness, choose life.