I've said from the beginning that I would try to grieve openly. I want to normalize grief and make space for others to grieve how they need when their time comes. As a society, we hide from death and decay, but it comes for all of us. When it does, we must create a safe place for ourselves and each other to work through the pain of loss.
It's been almost 7 months since my husband died. I left our Michigan home three days after he died in our bed, ending our lease and assuming I would never stay there again.
The first 6 months were spent in near complete hibernation. I isolated myself from travel and my usual creative outlets -- though I didn't just sit around.
I got a random job to pass the time.
I practiced guitar and wrote music.
I cooked for my father-in-law as we processed together.
I started building a village of chosen family in my husband's hometown.
But in June, hibernation began to feel oppressive. The itch to travel didn't surprise me, but the urgency with which I felt called back to Michigan did. I reached out to my old landlord on a whim, and she offered to let me stay in our old unit on a month-to-month basis while I figured things out.
So, in the middle of July, I found my way back up to our Michigan home.
Being in Michigan has been harder and better than I could have imagined. I've been exploring more than I ever did when we were in Michigan together, and I'm falling in love with the land all over again.
I miss my husband so much, and being here has definitely had its triggering moments. Many of my friends were surprised and even a bit concerned when I told them I'd be going back to the same unit where he died. It has been very difficult at times, but I believe that facing these feelings in their rightful place to their greatest depths is the best way for me to process the actual trauma of the event. It's been more beneficial than I expected.
On the drive up, I posted several longform posts on social media sharing the tender mercies and synchronicities I experienced along the way. I've continued to share my grief journey on social media and am planning to move several of those posts here under this new series, Grief Diary.
I almost wrote that the series would explore my "journey through grief". But grief isn't something I am looking to get through. Rather, this series will explore my relationship with grief.
I wear my grief like the most precious garment.
I cradle it in the depths of my heart and tend to it.
Grief is not something to be outrun; it is an invitation to remembrance -- a reminder of all that once was and an echo of what remains in our hearts.
We who mourn and remember are the lucky ones, called to write the stories still unfinished by our love.
