As I sat watching the doctor confirm Ursula’s passing, my first response was, “I don’t know what to do.” My greatest fear had entered the room and had no intention of leaving. Like most, I was not interested in grief until grief became interested in me. No one prepares you for grief; you can’t go to Starbucks, order your favorite drink, and say, “Could I also get three grief cookies, please!” Grief is not taught in school because if it were, the room would be filled with no-shows, including yours truly! And not even the church prepares you for grief. Grief is a journey that we learn as we go along. Each one will be different, and no two are alike. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are support groups that help us process our emotions and start the healing process, which I am a part of, but for me, grief is also on-the-job training; you learn as you live.

Are you constantly being weighed down thinking about your past? Does the thought of moving forward seem impossible? Does loving life, loving others, being loved, and allowing yourself to breathe again seem foreign? Do you constantly cast the fear and doubts of others onto yourself? Do thoughts and lies creep into your mind, saying you are not good, smart, or pretty enough? Then you’re in good company, at least in God’s eyes. To change your mind, you must change your thinking. (each day!) You become what you think about. (each day!) Proverbs 23:7a: “For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he.” But scripture also states in Philippians 4:8. “Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, THINK on these things.” What are you thinking? 🤔

As I approached the front door of my home that night after returning from an all-day outing, I heard a loud cry, an intense wailing. I immediately unlocked the door, turned off the alarm, and headed upstairs. With each step, the cry became louder and more intense. As I approached my youngest daughter’s room, she was on her knees, bent over her bed, and looking at a picture of her mom on her phone. Though I stepped in, she never looked up but continued to cry and stared at the picture. My first thought was to grab her hand, take her out of the room, and tell her everything would be ok, but I didn’t because it wasn’t. I realized she didn’t want a positive word. She didn’t want a scripture, a prayer, or God himself. She wanted her momma. She didn’t want a vision of her; she wanted her. As her dad, the provider, protector, preacher, and fixer, there was nothing I could do; there was no tool I could get or no restart button I could push; I couldn’t rip open my shirt and say “This is a job for Superman!” I never felt as helpless and hopeless because I wanted the same thing. As her crying continued, I walked down to my bedroom, closed the door, and started crying.

Sometimes, your little boat can become overwhelmed by the sea of life. Feeling alone navigating in these waters of uncertainty without a shipmate, captain, and navigator can be overwhelming. The massive waves of doubt, fears, past mistakes, missed opportunities, and lost relationships can crash from every side, causing unrelenting hard aches, pain, and lost hope. Reality Check! ✅ 😇 🙏🏾❤️ We have a navigator: 1 Peter 5:7 says, “Cast all your cares upon him, for he careth for you.” Isaiah 41:10 also states, “Fear not for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous hand.” Isaiah 40:31 says, “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” And finally, Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that God causes all things to work together for the good of those who love God, and are called according to his purpose.” So, check your navigation system next time you feel overwhelmed, confused, or discouraged.

The job reality is this: If you get hired, you can be fired regardless of whether you have been employed for 30 days, 30 months, or 30 years.

As I worked in the backyard today, a moment struck me. We were supposed to enjoy everything Ursula had initiated, including the gazebo, patio furniture, the fire pit, BBQ grills, and the projector screen. It was our getaway from the getaway. But now I must navigate the grief of what might have been. 😞😢☹️😭

Disconnecting occurs when there is a loss of power, whether internal or external. Losing something or someone is a disconnection because the power we once possessed has been cut off, causing us to wander in the darkness of fear and uncertainty, not to mention the loss of time, purpose, and hope. When a loss occurs, it can shake us to the core of our well-being; we slowly realize that life as we know it is over and reminds us that we have no control. Disconnections also occur when we leave the familiar and embrace the uncertainty of an unknown journey.

For me, as a widower, you can easily fall into a victim mentality. Why me? Losing Ursula is so unfair. I’m not going to make it. Unlike our spouses, men are not the social butterflies, so deep, emotional connection is lost or is non-existent. A lot of men are trying to navigate this journey of grief all alone because it’s hard to reach out with our emotions. That feeling of fear, doubt, worry, anger, and facing the unknown without help can make us feel we have been given a death sentence of our own following the death of our spouse. That’s a lonely feeling; that’s a lonely road.

Because society is ill-prepared and uncomfortable with grief, many avoid those who are on this path, thinking it is something you should get over quickly. I find the response I’m ok, “I’m making it,” or the classic, “I’m doing well as expected.” my usual response when asked; John, how are you? Most respond, “If you need me, call me!” Sometimes, I’m not sure what I need or even want. But my hope comes from my relationship with God; others and all my fellow brothers that’s on this journey with me.

One year ago today, I lost the love of my life, my best friend, babies momma, and my soulmate. Navigating this journey, this adjustment and the new normal has been challenging; it has hurt like nothing I have ever experienced. Doubt, fear, anger, loneliness, unworthiness, confusion, and the like have sat at my mind’s doorstep. But with God and others, I have learned that grief is a sign of love and that love leads to gratitude. Thank you all for your prayers and support for our family. When asked how I’m doing, I say, “Better than I was twelve months ago.” God bless.

As I ponder the last ten months since losing my LW Ursula, a deep gratitude has blossomed among the grief. Moving forward following a loss is hard. I’ve experienced my share of doubt, fear, anger, loneliness, and other emotions. But recently, gratitude has started to find its way into that mix—gratitude for the thirty-eight years we knew each other, twenty-eight of which included marriage. Gratitude for the three children we were given, gratitude for the intimate moments we shared, and her organizational skills have made this grief journey a little easier. For me, grief and gratitude go hand in hand.