Everything changed on the evening of March 30, 2021. With one phone call, I was gutted. Numb? On fire? I couldn't tell yet.
My husband had just told me that our darling daughter was dead.
I couldn't make it make sense. I didn't know yet, but I was experiencing tectonic changes; it was as if I had been concussed by grief, and I would learn that it would take years for the fog to begin to lift.
Neurologist and psychologist, Viktor Frankl, in his book, Man’s Search for Meaning, writes that we cannot avoid suffering, but we can choose how we deal with it, and we can even find meaning in it. To a greater or lesser extent, we do have choices about how we react and continue to act even in the face of great loss.
Despite the fierce and persistent pain, I'm learning to lean into resilience, and that has, in many ways, helped me feel sane under insane conditions. Grief has a way of confusing what we think we know, but I need to say clearly that my faith has kept me grounded. I am profoundly sad but I am not in despair; I grieve deeply, but I'm never without hope.
Frankl believed that the purpose of life is to find meaning. To find meaning now, I knew I had to use my deep pain for a purpose; the pain is simply too much to waste.
I'm still shaken to the core, but, by the grace of God, I'm able to continue being a good wife to my husband of 32 years, a present mother to my adult son (who is also mourning the loss of his sister and best friend), a doting Grannie to my new grandson, and a resourceful professor to my college students. I get overwhelmed, still feel so raw some days, and often need to step back to focus on my own needs through this process, but I'm encouraged and I hope you will be, too, as you continue to learn more about grief and the messy process required to move through it toward a life lived well.
