It’s almost March. No matter how much I don’t want that to matter, it does. At the end of March, it will have been two years since my husband died. Although I try to remember the hundred and thousands of good memories, instead of focusing on the day that marks his death, I can’t help it. My body and mind start feeling it approach before I consciously connect the dots as to why I’m feeling the way I’m feeling.
I’m trying to reflect on how far I’ve come in the last two years. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately in effort to combat the March “funk” that is lurking. Here are the thoughts spinning around in my mind as the 2-year mark approaches. I’m noticing how last year my some days were actually my most days. I’m doing better.
Some days I still can’t believe this is real life.
Most days I know it’s real and tackle it with hope and determination.
Some days the sorrow is still crippling.
Most days I laugh, dream and can enjoy the day.
Some days I am broken-hearted about the people I loved that haven’t called or stopped by since the weeks after the funeral.
Most days I don’t think about it. Most days I’ve forgiven them and celebrate the new friendships I’ve found.
Some days I fear an empty house and a lonely life after the kids are grown.
Most days I’d rather be an old dog lady and not worry about shaving my legs.
Some days I question God, my faith and absolutely everything.
Most days He is my rock, my strength, my hope, my comfort and my every reason.
Some days I feel weak. I feel like I can’t possibly do anything without him.
Most days I feel determined and capable. Most days I think of how proud he would be of me and how I know he’s rooting me on. Most days I remember how confident he was in my ability to do this.
Some days I’m overwhelmed with parenting.
Most days I’m overwhelmed with parenting. (Well? Just being honest!)
Some days I feel so jealous of “normal” intact families. I cry “UNFAIR!” in my head when I see old couples celebrating big milestone anniversaries.
Most days I’m happy for them and grateful for the years I was granted.
Some days I think about downsizing, moving somewhere more affordable with less upkeep and expense. Maybe somewhere near family.
Most days I want to stay right where I am. I’m too lazy to get the house ready to sell, I’m too attached to the memories we created here and I’m just not ready.
Some days I don’t believe in myself. I feel my ideas and plans for a new career are ridiculous and pointless. I feel untalented, unequipped and a fool.
Most days I believe in what I’m trying to do and trust this is my calling.
Some days I can barely remember how the first year felt. I’m afraid of forgetting it, even though it was horrible. I worry forgetting the pain part will also mean forgetting the depth of my love for him.
Most days it’s still singed on my heart. There are scars to remind me. My kids remind me. Most days I know the love won’t end, the memories won’t fade, but the pain will…and is.
Some days I peer into his eyes in a photo and it devastates me. I want to reach out and feel his skin, his breath, his touch. I want to be inside his embrace.
Most days I can pass by his pictures on the wall without incident, or maybe even pause and smile.
Some days I want to scream at people complaining about their husbands.
Most days I understand and don’t feel bitter and angry.
Some days I’m just trying to wait the day out. I’m just getting through each hour until the day is over.
Most days I know that’s not living. Most days there’s not enough time in the day.
Some days I feel so guilty and replay every imperfect word I ever said to him. Some days I am ashamed of all the ways I fell short as his caregiver, as his wife, as his friend.
Most days I remember how hard I tried to be everything he needed me to be. Most days I remember how forgiving he was when he had every reason to be mad all day every day. Most days I forgive myself for the times I fell short.
Some days I don’t care about healthy eating or healthy living.
Most days I’m counting points and resisting chocolate cake. Most days that’s still hard though.
Some days I am self-centered in my own grief. Some days I don’t want to be encouraging because I don’t feel encouraged myself.
Most days I believe this pain can be used to help others feel less alone.
Some days I feel so accomplished in the ways I’ve learned techie things.
Most days I want to set my laptop on fire.
Some days I give extra grace.
Most days I just need it.
For all of you in the thick of brand-new grief, I hope you will be reassured that your most days will eventually be your some days. For those of you farther along, I hope your most days are enough to carry you through the some days. And for every one of you, no matter where you are on the grief timeline…you are NOT alone.
Extra grace,
Jodi
** Some days I beg you to SUBSCRIBE to my blog. Most days I also do this.
Jodi, I lost my husband almost five months ago. We were married for 47 years. Your words seem written by me. I see families, and I think that “mine is incomplete”; I question the Lord everyday why me? why Javier who was a loving soul? I visit his ashes almost everyday and I go from absolute sadness to anger. I certainly need Extra Grace.!
I just love you, and know, I want you to know, how God is using you in my first year of this journey. You make me cry and give me a glimmer of hope, though most days that’s still hard to come by. April 20th is the day my dear David entered into the presence of the Lord, and I am already anxious already. The article, every single word fit how I feel, but especially about being his caregiver and feeling I failed him. Thank you so much. I wish I could hug you.
What a wonderful gift you give us, letting us and each other know that greiving is hard and it takes time, i was under the impression that after I got through all the “firsts” it would be better. Well it is and it isn’t, in my second year, there are more good days but I am still surprised by unexpected tears, anger and frustration that there is this emptiness…..and I don’t know how to fill up that hole in my heart.
Your articles capture how I feel so well. My husband was killed 14 months ago by a driver who was texting & driving. It was 3 days before Christmas. Worst part was I had no way to say goodbye–totally unprepared; we had been married 46 years. It still seems unreal. All the ups & downs & feeling one way one day & the opposite another day you describe are so true. I am coping with the help of God and many friends & family but you are right–life will never be the same. Thanks for your articles.
Thank you for sharing these thoughts today. My husband died seven years ago today.
Thank you for this post. Its very inspiring.
I am 2/3 of the way through my second year. Everything you say resonates with me. Keep on writing. Your blog is so important ans inspiring. Your God given gift is blessing me immensely.
Thank you for this post and your thoughts. My husband died 1 year ago. It is in a sense harder at this time. I think the first year I was in shock at his sudden death, and now the hard cold reality is setting in. This is so hard.
Jodi, this made me cry, but was also sooo encouraging. It was 1 year Feb. 13 for me and your “somes” are still my “mosts”. Thank you for being able to share your thoughts with us. They are my thoughts also, but you say them so much better than I could. I am keeping this one! It really hit home! Please don’t stop writing.
Jodi, once again you have hit the nail on the head with so many ways I feel but don’t have your eloquence in expressing. It will be 3 years on April 13 since my husband died, and I don’t think we ever get over having “some days.” But they come less often and do not obsess my every thoughts as in the beginning. Year one i was in shock, busy with business matters, and the mind picture of his sick,, ravaged body made it a little easier to let go. By year two there was a different kind of pain as I dwelled more on our past happy years and realized this is my new reality. However, during this year acceptance has set in and I’m more at peace. But looking at his pictures still pierces my heart. Dear Jodi, know that God is using you to encourage many, many others going through the same experience. Bless you!
Thank you! This post really spoke to me. March 11th will be 3 years without my husband and I totally know what you mean about feeling it before you even realized that anniversary was coming up.
Just living the some days and most days, relying on God’s grace everyday.
I am so happy when I see an email from you and know I’m going to read something meaningful and that God always speaks to me through your honest, transparent words. I’m 8 1/2 mos. into this grief process and my “most” days are starting to outweigh my “some” days, but they’re still there for sure. My sister’s husband is now in hospice, so I am trying to help her through this process as well, it’s hard. Her circumstances are completely different, almost opposite of mine, but loss is loss and it’s hard no matter what. Thank you for letting us all share our comments, it helps us to share our story with YOU. I am blessed by your posts, each and every time. Thank you, thank you, thank you and PLEASE keep them coming – you are ministering to so many. I will share your blog with my sister when her time comes and so yet another heart will be encouraged by how God uses you to encourage us all and propels us forward in this grief journey. God bless you and your family richly. Tight hugs girl!
Jodi,
Please know I’m wrapping my arms around you in a great big hug. You are such an encourager to others going through the grief process. Keep writing!
Maryellen ❤️
Thanks for visiting, Jodi Whitsitt. Hugs to you!!
Thank you so much for this post. Today was a cry fest for me. I lost my 26 year old 9/2016, my husband to Glioblastoma 7months ago and my Mom 7 weeks ago. The pain is so raw. I am in therapy and am holding on with a string of faith. My other 5 kids are a mess. I keep thinkers by my husband would be so much better at all this. You give me hope that it will get better. Thank you for your thouhhts
Dear Jodi, i know exactly how U feel. I still also have the same feelings. I have a son that is 34 & just moved cross country so I already have empty use syndrome. God is my rock but some days I still am just so lonely. I don’t know f its because of it being winter or if its just worse depression that has me sleeping more & caring about housework etc less and some days I just don’t care. My husband died on Thanksgiving morning 2015 so I’m a few months farther along than you, not that it makes any difference. Our lives are still not what we expected them to be even 5 years ago & it does still hurt. Keep the thoughts coming so I can know that I’m not alone in this. Sending hugs & prayers!
I’m so glad I found your blog. I can relate to everything you’ve written here. My amazing husband passed away this past November very suddenly. He was 46. I miss him so much and I’m just trying to do my best every day. Thanks for sharing your journey.