Just Keep Going
It's been a long time since I wrote a blog post but I firmly believe in quality over quantity. Like everyone else, I have seasons of quiet time and lack of motivation but I share when I'm inspired, when I have something to say that I think may be impactful, or honestly, when I get an itch to write. This week always brings that up for me.
The week I lost my late husband was a blur, from the Saturday morning he died to the following Saturday when family and friends gathered together to remember him and say goodbye (for now).
My life as I knew it was over and I was tasked with figuring out what to do next, how to rebuild a life that had been severed and was going to be vastly different than the one I'd been living.
Most things didn't make sense at the time and though I was able to find peace and comfort in little memories and moments, there was one thing that grounded me in my present and kept me going: taking care of myself.
I tried to keep a normal routine and sleep schedule in the now empty apartment I lived in. Our dog at the time, Kumo, keeping me company even though he then permanently lived with his grandpawrents. (He joined his dad over the rainbow bridge two summers later.)
I looked back at my calendar recently. I returned to the gym the week after services and trained with my trainer. Through tears and a safe space, he guided me to move my body the way I know it needed to. And for me, that was a form of therapy. (Thanks, Fab)
I cooked and fed myself as I normally would because in the back of my mind, I knew a nourished physical body was the only way to support a strong and sound mental one. This later became a habit I lived by.
I still agreed to meetups with friends because I knew their friendship and support would be part of what kept me going.
To the outside world, I was "strong", I had my sh#t together and was doing all the right things. That didn't mean I had it figured out or that everything was OK. It just meant I chose to keep going, to move forward, in a way that perhaps wasn't what a typical young widow's grief journey should've looked like. I had guilt about that.
I stopped "shoulding" myself a while back, pushed it away with the guilt and regret, but as the anniversary date draws near each summer, there are always moments of reflection and thinking back to that awful week that inspires and motivates me to write things like this, share it, but also fuel why I do what I do.
My takeaway for you is this: just keep going, keep moving forward, in whatever you do and in whatever is holding you back. If this resonated with you, share it, send me a note back or just say hi. If you’re stuck and need help, let me know.