Death is permanent. It is a definite end to life in this world. I will never see my husband again in my lifetime. I will never hear his voice again (with the exception of the voicemails that I listen to relentlessly). I will only see his image in pictures for the rest of my life. I will not be in the room with him silently. I will not share a meal with him. He will not be rubbing my feet. He will not kiss me goodbye every time we part. Instead of him, there is a void. This permanent void is overwhelming and painful.

My grief is all encompassing. It affects all parts of my life. Because I shared all of my life with someone who is no longer here, I am reminded of his absence in all aspects of daily life. Every mundane daily event is an exclamation point to his absence. However, life is going on. The world has continued to rotate every 24 hours regardless of my new widow status.

So to move forward I have had the chance to participate in a bible study at Pink Hill UMC about grief. I was reminded of the story of Lazarus at the most recent gathering. Even Jesus could not escape the pain of death. “Jesus wept.” John 11:35. It is a powerful thing that Jesus grieved before he woke Lazarus. Before he woke Lazarus and removed the barrier of permanent separation, he grieved the loss of Lazarus. There is a reason and a purpose for grief. It cannot be just a black hole of pain and suffering. It is important. There is something in the midst of it to lead us somewhere.

Ordinary /ˈôrdnˌerē/

with no special or distinctive features; normal.

Oxford dictionary

As much as grieving is extraordinary to me personally, it is an ordinary experience. It is ordinary because it is normal. Experiences of loss are universal. The option of “Qualifying Widower” is on tax returns for crying out loud. I’m not the only one. I’m not special. However, none of that eases the pain. That line of thinking makes me want to minimize my pain. It wants to make me think I should be getting over it. Why am I still crying in the bathroom mirror every morning? How many tears can I possibly make?

So I think maybe, one of the purposes of grief is to force us to move forward. The pain is so raw and uncontrollable that it forces me forward. I can’t stay here because I cannot survive here. It is reflexive to move away from pain. It is natural to want to alleviate it. Every day, I find myself doing things that do help alleviate the pain and it helps me move forward. This blog is of one of those things. Returning to work was another. Changing out my garbage disposal with a friend is another. Moments that are new experiences and new memories in my new chapter of life.

Moving forward in life is not moving away from my love. It is not forgetting and replacing. It is merely survival. And that is ok. That is all I know right now.