From Grief to Growth: Reclaiming Life After a Loved One’s Passing

It is strange. I feel that my life can be split into three distinct times. Before Roland, with Roland and after Roland.

If you are new here, I ought to say that Roland was my husband. He passed away suddenly on Boxing Day 2023.

Before Roland I was a person driven by something intangible. Something I wanted but didn’t have. I wanted a person to myself and a family to love. I had actually given up. I thought it was a mote point and was at a very low time. I was vulnerable and took any comfort I could get. Even if that resulted in fists and pain. Then Roland walked into a bar and sat next to me. Although he always maintained that I sat next to him. We never agreed.

Initially we argued that it would be too difficult to have a relationship. He lived too far way and had children and other girlfriends. I should say that I am poly, always have been. I have always had more than one boyfriend. I could never find anyone who wanted to commit to just me. I had accepted this so having the conversation with Roland about joining his girlfriends, was not an issue. If anything we felt both a little freer in being friends. We knew that we would work as a couple but we also knew that it would be complicated.

Then we spent time together as friends and we chatted. On whatsapp we would share a joke. Where are you, I would ask. With ***, he would answer and I knew then that we were headed for a relationship. Up to this point we had not touched. We didn’t. We were friends and not lovers.

Then one day we did.

“Oh…” I said.

“Ah…” he said. “I’m home.”

And that was it. Both of us were in a self-destructive spiral and with that hug it just stopped. Then we started seeing each other and immediately referred to ourselves as partners. We knew it was for the long haul immediately. Over the next three months the other woman he was seeing stopped seeing him and then it was just me.

“Monogamous,” I said.

“Poly with just two,” he said.

We never could agree on that either.

Then one day, in just twenty minutes, he was gone. I held him and told him I loved him and that no matter what we would be okay. Now I am trying to make that a reality. But who am I?

I am not the insecure mess that I was before. I am definitely not the confident wife with grand plans. Instead, I am alone and trying to carve myself a space. A space that I have to feel I deserve. The before me felt I didn’t deserve anything. The me with him knew he deserved it. The me after has to realise that I deserve it.

At the same time, every plan and dream dissolved in those twenty minutes. It was all gone. Then the decisions had to be made. The first decision came two hours later. I had to decide whether to go back to my parents or stay in the house.

I had never lived alone. Due to the autism we were not sure if I could. Now I stood on that cliff edge and looked down. It would have been easy to go back to the smallholding and allow others to take care of everything. So easy. But I decided not to. Right there I looked down at that cliff with failure at the bottom and I said – I’ll stay.

I figured I might fail but if I did then I would know. We would know. But in order to find out I had to try.

I lived alone. I finished the renovation on the house. I sold the house. I bought a new house and started another renovation.

I packaged my grief and put it in a box so that I could do all that. Now that box is open again and sometimes I spiral. Sometimes I get lost in it. In the loss and the unfairness of it all. Last night I ate a whole bag of peppermint creams and half a box of pringles. This is my binge eating. This is my spiral. This morning I felt a little sick but I am out of the spiral.

Every night I write a letter to Roland. I tell him of my day and if it has been good or bad. Somehow it reset me. So, this morning I am not holding the baggage of yesterday. Instead, I am able to see where we are going with the future.

Oh, that is the other thing I do. I refer to me as we. Mainly because in my mind I am still married and I still have Roland with me. Almost as if I carry both mine and his soul.

I still am not sure who I am but I am sure that the future is not this black hole. The future will be good, and bad, and indifferent. And I can do it. I just have to be unafraid of that cliff edge and of failure. I just have to say – I’ll stay.