Imagine watching your loved one cry on such a level that you didn’t even know was possible. Their very soul is falling to pieces in front of your eyes. You helplessly hold them, knowing nothing in this entire world can bring them comfort. Imagine watching your loved one go from being filled with happiness, and hope to filled with despair, anger, and hopelessness. Their eyes, once filled with liveliness are now filled with sorrow. You watch your loved one as they give up, and just go through the motions, unwillingly. Your loved one is a just a shell of the vibrant person they were not all that long ago.

Now imagine finding your soulmate. God’s person for you. You feel whole, you are filled with love. The two of you are one, life is perfect. Until one day when it all crashes down on you. Your other half is dead. You aren’t whole, you are broken. Your agony is soul deep. The devastation you feel is so profound that words cannot possibly begin to describe it.

When my late husband died, I begged God to take me, too. Life without my other half was excruciating, and I wanted no part in it. I felt hollow. God took the most beautiful of souls, and left the world with me. I yelled at Him, told Him that He took the wrong person. I begged Him for years.

Most people didn’t see this. They saw me smile, maybe even laugh. People saw me date around, and assumed I’d moved on. People outside of my immediate family didn’t see the truth. The day my late husband died was the day I did too, in so many ways. My grief was personal, I didn’t advertise it, usually. I didn’t owe anyone a personal glimpse into my utter devastation.

Grief is never ending. It’s been over 20 years since I became a widow, and I still grieve. God has blessed me with another soulmate, and I still grieve. My mother told me that grief is the price we pay for love. She’s right. The grief hasn’t magically disappeared. It’s not supposed to.

To be continued…