Grief

I ran into a topic last week that many people avoid, yet it’s one of the most universal parts of human life: grief. It is the most painful and lonely experience we face.

I met death early. As a late child, I lost my grandparents before ten. My parents were old‑fashioned; they didn’t explain anything, just took me to funerals and lifted me to say goodbye at open caskets. Later I lost my mother at nineteen, my father as an adult, my husband at forty‑eight, and a dear friend at fifty‑two. Every loss was different, and every grief had its own shape.

Losing my husband was the hardest. It wasn’t a perfect marriage, but imperfect relationships still build a life. We raised children, built a future, supported each other through sickness, and fought through eighteen years of challenges. When you lose the person you rely on most, you’re left in an emptiness words barely touch.

I felt a physical hole in my stomach — an emotional wound torn open. I walked through the house holding my stomach, crying, trying not to lose myself. With his death, I lost my husband, my children’s father, my business partner, my income, my home, and the future I thought I had.

I remember walking down the street, lost in thought, looking up in disbelief that the world kept moving. People laughed. Children played. Life continued.

After three months, I tried to pull myself out. Every step carried guilt and numbness. I started online courses. Creative work helped me focus. I forced myself to speak to people online — I hated it at first — but eventually met people who didn’t walk on eggshells. Every small step pulled me away from suicidal thoughts and numbness. I pushed until I could walk again. Eventually, I could run.

It feels impossible at the beginning, but it is possible.

People asked why my spiritual knowledge didn’t make grief easier. The truth is simple: these things help in the long term. But in the short term, I am a human being. A mother. A person who feels.

Someone asked how to help a woman who lost her husband. I said: You cannot help her “move on.” That is her journey.

But you can listen.

You can help with practical things — funeral arrangements, finances, daily tasks.

You can be present if you see signs of suicidal thoughts, and get help if needed.

Most importantly: don’t judge.

Everyone copes differently. Grief brings extreme emotions, confusion, memory issues, or mental crashes. People don’t move through the stages in order. Encourage steps, but never force them. Respect their speed.

If you are grieving, don’t expect others to understand. Try not to be angry at the world for continuing. Don’t hold back your emotions for others — it doesn’t help. What helps is accepting the facts, the feelings, and the pain. Facing your new circumstances. And consciously creating a new life, step by step.

It is unbearable at the beginning. But I assure you: you can.