An Individual Grief Experience

At first the loss was a relief, my husband had been sick with esophagus cancer for almost 12 months, was in tremendous pain and had wasted away to nothing. I never knew for sure how much weight he lost, but I would estimate close to one hundred and ten pounds.

When he died, he took that last breath, I knew it was best for him, as terrible as his life and lack of quality of life had become. At about six months it really began to hit me, and my life became a deep, gaping hole of lonely, empty despair. I was afraid to talk about it, to voice my fear, my total numbness. I had three children I needed to keep on an even keel. At times I would cry, or stare blankly, and I thought perhaps this is going crazy, or at least I was losing whatever grip I had on life. This was the beginning of my grief experience.

Now, four years later I can see the tremendous growth I've gone through, allowed myself to move through, and I feel I have come out on the other side, a better, more compassionate person. But I still remember the time in between, the time of incredible loneliness, feeling wounded and hurt to be left alone. In truth, I don't want to forget those years in between. It made me who I am today.