I had written the following post in September of 2020 – the two year mark of losing Chase. It doesn’t feel complete. And I resisted posting it, fearing that I was writing from a place of bitterness. A friend encouraged me recently to keep writing and sharing, that it didn’t matter if it was from a place of hurt, that I could still share how I was feeling. So here it is. Unedited from when I wrote it.

Year Two

When I started this blog one year ago, on the first anniversary of my husband’s passing, I had planned to do a lot more writing and share a lot more things.
But it’s true when grieving people say that the second year is often harder than the first.
I think it’s in part because the first year you’re mostly in the fog of survival. And not much is expected of you. People know, people care, people are helping. You somehow make it through that first year. That “year of firsts”.

But then the second year comes, and it’s lonelier. A lot lonelier.

Year two is where the fog begins to clear – and you see what you’re left with.
And who you’re left with.
People forget. I don’t mean truly forget, but they often forget in the day to day. Or, at least it feels that way.
Most people (except the special few) don’t get to see the true goings-on of a grieving widow with her grieving children. They don’t feel the sting of seeing “together families” going about their lives, enjoying their holidays, or quarantining together. They don’t see that you’re still trying to stay afloat. That most days you’re hardly hanging in there by the end of the day (or even at the begging of the day).
Year two is when you see who is still standing beside you.

Year two has been uncomfortable.
I’m learning to face my feelings without judging them as being right or wrong, good or bad.
Feelings of discouragement, rejection, anger, disappointment, even betrayal. The hard feelings. The ugly feelings. Feelings that I’m so prone to just push away, push down, smother… anything but FEEL them.
But I need to.

How can I feel joy if I cannot feel sorrow?
How can I feel contentment if I cannot feel unease?
How can I feel peace if I cannot feel discomfort?