Another month has passed since my main man slipped the surly bonds of earth and began his eternity in heaven.

I hadn’t thought about it until the other day that ten months is generally the amount of time a woman is pregnant. Along with pregnancy comes the anticipation of giving birth, the growing of a new life, and new dreams. Instead of dreaming and planning new things with Jason, the last ten months I have spent mourning the loss of his life, mourning the death of our future dreams, mourning the loss of comfort, the discovery of a “new” normal and finding home again.

When faced with a loss you don’t typically think about or plan the month to month anniversaries because you’re focused solely on getting through each day. Then before you know it one month has passed by, then two and then six. Now ten months have gone by and I am feeling the labor pains of grief as we march closer to the 1 year anniversary.

The last couple of months came with more “firsts”. A big one that he is yet again missing out on…prom. Last year I was jokingly inviting him to prom with me. The chaperones had a fun set up with cabins and it would be like a mini staycation. All he had to do was spend an evening around teenagers (not ours) that spent the time jumping up and down, screaming and singing to all the songs until the body odor drove everyone from the room. I joked and told him about how we could dance the night away to make up for the pathetic “prom” we had in high school. Being the introvert that he was meant that he was not very excited about my proposal. He put up a fight every step of the way and yet when the time came he still agreed to show up and enjoyed being a chaperone with me and getting a glimpse into my daily world with the students and other staff in attendance.

This year, prom was different. I didn’t have to drag him along because now he always goes with me everywhere I go. He is right there and yet at the same time his place is empty. Sometimes I don’t know how to explain to people what this feels like and why I feel alone even though I know I’m not. Sometimes the grief space seems to overwhelm my space and sometimes it is barely recognizable. 

You know when you are a new parent and you are constantly wondering if the choices you are making will ruin your perfect baby? You sleep less, you eat in the quiet moments or sometimes not at all, you have all the questions and the uncertainty of what to do if xyz happens is all consuming. Grief is like that. You have this new feeling, it is all the feelings mixed up into one unexplainable emotion. Sleep can be deep and refreshing or non existent. Food is no longer enjoyable, it is tasteless and really becomes just sustaining life. You want to just stay in and protect that new baby? Yep, grief is like that too! The couch, the bed, your favorite recliner are all great options for trying to sleep and process the emotions and activity that is sure to swirl around you.

Here is what I can tell you from my experience. Just like when you have a new baby and all your friends set up a meal train or bring food, groceries or just come to sit with you to help you feel like a normal human, this should happen after loss as well. It did with me. My community was a beautiful example of showing the physical, tangible love of my Heavenly Father. The best part, they did not just show up for a few days, they continue to walk with me today. They have been a consistent source of support, encouragement and the few really close ones can tell when I am having a tough day and lean in even more to help.

My community has not been the only piece that has helped me walk through my grief and healing of my heart. I have been going to a local Christian counseling center. It is something from the onset of this adventure I knew was necessary after what I saw and experienced in the hospital as well as walking through the death and loss of my spouse. My counselor has been a lifeline. She has challenged me, she has asked all the hard questions and has even given a new perspective to many thoughts and feelings that have come throughout this journey. The best part, she always brings our conversation back to the Word and talks about what the Bible says about grief, provision, God’s goodness, faithfulness and hope. Even now, ten months out I still go and talk, laugh and process out all the feelings and thoughts. 

Finally, my faith in God has been the firm foundation that has helped me to stay grounded. It provided a place of peace in the midst of uncertainty. It provided a place of hope when all seemed hopeless. It provided a place where I could go and surrender all my fears, my dead dreams, the loss of my one true love on earth, and the deep hurt that lingered. I trusted that when I surrendered all the above and more to my Heavenly Father that His promises would not return void. 

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion – to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified. ~Isaiah 61:1-3

May I leave you with this encouragement today: No matter where you are in your grief journey you can find comfort first in your Heavenly Father. He is the ultimate source for all you need. Next, please find your community. You cannot go through this alone. The support they offer will be your lifeline. Finally, if you have not looked into counseling, please consider finding a Christian counselor today. Grief is not something you just “get over”. It is something that lingers and slithers into the most random of moments, days, weeks, and more if allowed to go unchecked. Processing grief and trauma is not something that can be “fixed” by applying some bandaid. Much like parenting it is something that takes a village. So who is in your village helping you?