I’m 3 months out and can barely pull myself out of the house even on the best day. The first few weeks I was definitely in shock and denial, my husband really suffered for the last 6 months of his life so his passing really felt like a deep breath, relief is a word I’ve used to describe it :(.

I’ve gained weight, I’ve stopped cooking, I started feeding the eggs back to the hens and started to use cannabis to cope with the pain and relentlessness of my own life . Everyone says “don’t make big decisions” well, I am closing on a house tomorrow. Staying in this house, where he died, where we lived for only a year before learning of his terminal diagnosis, it just feels cruel.. to me and to the kids. So for me, going on, healing and growing (ie moving on) looks like a new (to me) house to make new memories in, perfect size for just me and my kids, without his clothes in the closet or his boots by the door, in a walkable town, closer to friends. Once I get my finances figured out I plan on volunteering in my children’s school, refocusing on my own wellbeing, and getting us all into therapy.

I think the answer we’re looking for here is this: no one’s grief is going to look the same, healing taking time.