In May 2024—three months after my husband Steve died, and one year after what I thought was my last post here—my Muse inspired me to write “Series 2” of blog posts. Probably because the recent events in my life had expanded and deepened my view of Oneness.
At that time I said I would include my realizations and learnings about grieving because, at some point, we all experience loss—whether it’s the loss of a beloved human, fur baby, or feather baby; the end of a marriage, relationship, or friendship; the end of a dream or goal; the loss of a job or career; a significant decline in health or finances; or the loss of a sense of safety and security in this crazy time in history.
Loss is loss—whatever it is. And grieving that loss is a healthy reaction that helps us deal with it.
So a couple months ago—about two years after Steve died—a blog post title started kicking around in my brain: “The Other Side of Grieving.” I began asking myself about my grieving process, “What IS the ‘other side of grieving’”?…
Is it a matter of time passing?
Is it when you find yourself “creating a new life”?
Is it when you can look at old photos or commemorate important dates—remembering the past with fondness and gratitude instead of deep sorrow?
Is it when you’re emotionally able to purge your loved one’s belongings?
Is it when you no longer have crying jags?
I have a few thoughts about this that I’d like to share with you…
My Stage in the “Stages of Grief”
The past two+ years since Steve died have been challenging—to say the least—in many domains. I now know that the first year I was still basically numb; second year, not so much—so it’s been even harder for me than the first.
But I observed that I had begun to “create a new life” for myself: a renewed sense of optimism, socializing a bit more and making some new friends, identifying opportunities to volunteer, and even doing some embroidery again—something I couldn’t concentrate enough to do for many, many months.
Likewise, I have largely survived several holidays and anniversaries—and have gone through old photos feeling fondness and gratitude. I’ve purged most of Steve’s clothes and some of his belongings easily—most of the time—after all they’re not “him.” And I now have only an occasional—and brief—crying jag. Family and friends have marveled, “You’re doing so well!”
So I blithely believed that I was, indeed, on “The Other Side of Grieving.” That I had emerged from the Seven Stages of Grief that I described in a blog post here.*
Well, not so fast.
Because some of the above accomplishments are “largely” and “most of the time,” I realize now that I’m still bouncing around at least the last two of the Seven Stages of Grief:
- Reconstruction and Working Through
- Acceptance and Hope
So I have a new understanding of “the path of grieving is not linear.” I can attest that it can be a bit of a rollercoaster ride with highs and lows, and twists and turns. Just like in the Godfather movie, when you think you’ve gotten out, it keeps pulling you back in.
I go along fine doing my new life until, wham! Something out of the blue triggers me and it’s one step forward, three steps back—into a crying jag or an overwhelming feeling of loneliness or just plain overwhelm at my “new life.” And then I’m fine again until days, weeks, or even months later another totally unexpected trigger hits me.
And on and on. Round and round. Back and forth.
My Conclusions
All in all, despite those occasional trigger times, I think I AM doing well. I’m making the house my own—like buying new furniture. I have some new friends and new hobbies. I’m doing some crafting again. In addition to this blog, I’m writing two novels in very different genres. I’m also thinking of publishing these blog posts in a book.
I just surpassed 180 items in my “Kudos to Me” list—things I REALLY didn’t know how to do (in the domains of house, car, finances, technology, etc.) but figured them out one way or another. (This is in addition to all the things I DO know how to do in all those domains—and I have done and continue to do—including the almost 50 things you have to do legally, financially, and in every other way after a spouse dies.)
Sure, sometimes I still need some distraction. So I binge watch a TV series or YouTube videos about crafting techniques, or I binge listen to audiobooks while I do binge coloring. And I’m itching to start a new Paint by Number kit—like I did as a distraction during Steve’s home Hospice—but maybe now not just for distraction; maybe for real, honest-to-goodness enjoyment. (What a concept.😁)
So what IS “The Other Side of Grieving”?
I’m not sure there really is one. I don’t think there’s any time limit or criteria that delineates it. Nor is there a time when you’re “all better.” Maybe it’s “simply” a matter of “You never get over grief; you just learn to live with it.” Maybe it’s “just” living through all of life’s ups and downs, challenges and triumphs.
In other words, it’s simply living my life—like everybody else does. Except now my life is quite different from what it was two+ years ago when my-partner-in-all-things Steve was still alive.
So maybe there isn’t really an “other side of grieving.” Maybe grieving just changes in form and intensity. Maybe you really do just learn to live with the loss—shifting to a different path.
But then again, how many times does our path in life change? Maybe the answer is “all the time”—with big happenings (like a graduation, marriage, parenthood, divorce, new home, or new job) AND the myriad of large and small decisions we make every day, many of which we don’t even notice.
Regardless of all our life happenings and all those decisions and all the changes in our life path, still the planet continues to revolve. The sun rises and sets. The seasons transition one to another to another.
Life goes on.
And that’s OK. That’s “life.”
But as I wrote in my blog post “The Stages of Grief—Or Not”:
…the bottomline for me is that as painful as any loss is—whether it’s a loved one, a pet, a job or career, a goal, a life path, etc.—I believe it indicates that we are living life full out. That we have loved and been loved. That we have made a commitment to that loved one, job, goal, etc. and worked to nurture it. And I think this love and commitment are awesome and beautiful because they’re Humanity at its purest and best.
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* The Stages of Grief—Or Not. This blog post provides information that I believe—had I known it sooner—would have helped me navigate my early grieving process a bit more easily.
BTW—The following blue flower painting is the one I worked on after Steve was settled for the night when he was in home Hospice, and then I finished in the weeks after he died. The turquoise door painting is the kit I’m thinking of starting. These painting kits are a relatively mindless creative activity that still requires a lot of concentration (a great distraction), and I love working with colors. This new one reminds me of summer in the AZ desert. Gee, I guess I do love working with colors!
Your Path to Oneness 