First off, thank you for allowing me to share with you in a deep raw and vulnerable way about the loss of my husband and my personal grief.
If you’ve followed me for a while, you know my life took a turn I never expected when I lost my husband, Quintin. Losing him shattered me in ways I can’t even fully put into words. As a mom of four, I didn’t have the option to stop. Life didn’t pause for me. I still had kids to feed, schedules to manage, and responsibilities that didn’t go away just because my heart broke.
But grief has a way of teaching you things you never wanted to learn. It changes you — not just in the obvious ways, but in the tiny, unseen moments too.
When Quintin passed away, I quickly realized grief wasn’t something I could “get over.” I have known him longer than anyone else in my life. He was not only my lover, the father of my children, he was my best friend. Grief wasn’t a season with a clear start and end date. Instead, it became a part of me, woven into the fabric of my life. And while I would give anything to have him back, I’ve learned lessons in this valley that I carry with me today.
I want to share 10 things grief has taught me — in hopes that maybe, just maybe, they’ll resonate with you too. If you’re grieving a spouse, a parent, a child, a friend, or even the loss of a dream or season of life… please know you’re not alone.
1- You can feel two things at once
Grief showed me that you can be completely broken and still grateful to be alive. There are days when I wake up with tears in my eyes, but I also hear my kids laughing in the kitchen — and in that moment, I feel both sorrow and gratitude. It’s complicated, but that’s the truth of grief.
2 – There is no “right” way to grieve
When Quintin first passed, I thought maybe there was a formula or a checklist. Cry for a while, move on, feel better. But grief doesn’t work that way. Some days I feel strong. Other days I can barely function. Both are normal. Both are valid.
No one’s grief journey looks the same — and that’s okay.
3 – Time doesn’t heal everything
People love to say, “time heals all wounds.” But honestly? It doesn’t. Time doesn’t erase the pain. What time does is teach you how to carry it. It softens the edges just enough for you to keep walking forward. And honestly it is what you do with your time that helps you to heal.
4- Triggers come out of nowhere
The first time I walked into a Chiefs game after Quintin’s death, I thought I could handle it. But then a memory hit me like a wave, and I couldn’t breathe. That’s the thing about grief triggers — they sneak up when you least expect them. And that’s okay. You don’t have to rush past those moments. Sometimes you just have to stop, feel it, and let the tears fall.
5 – You don’t have to explain your pain
Not everyone will understand what you’re going through, and you don’t owe anyone an explanation. Grief is deeply personal. Sometimes silence speaks louder than words.
6- People will surprise you
This was one of the hardest lessons. Some people I thought would be there… weren’t. Others I never expected to step up became my lifeline. Grief has a way of revealing who’s truly in your corner. This one is really hard. Honestly, there can be a lot of disappointment that can easily turn into bitterness. You will have to give others a ton of grace, but also remember to give yourself grace in the process.
7 – Some days will feel unbearable
There are mornings when I wonder how I’ll make it through the day. But then I do. I breathe through one moment, then the next. And at night, I realize I survived another day without him — and that’s its own kind of victory.
8- Grief lives in the body
I had no idea how physical grief would feel. The exhaustion. The heaviness in my chest. The tears that come without warning. I’ve learned to give my body grace: rest, cry, move, repeat. That cycle has carried me more than once. AND PRAY!! God wants to shoulder this pain with you. The weight of Death is something we were never meant to carry my friend.
9- Joy can exist beside pain
This lesson took me the longest to accept. At first, I felt guilty any time I laughed or felt joy. How could I be happy when Quintin isn’t here? But I’ve learned that joy doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten him. It simply means I’m allowing myself to live fully, even in the midst of my loss and if I am being honest, this is exactly what Quintin would want for me- for me to find JOY again!
10 – Grieving is not weakness
Grief doesn’t make me weak. In fact, it’s one of the strongest things I’ve ever had to endure. Continuing to love Quintin while learning to live without him is the hardest, bravest thing I’ve ever done.
The Love That Never Left
I never wanted these lessons. I never wanted to know what it’s like to be a widow raising four kids. But here I am — carrying both the pain and the love. Because the love didn’t leave. That part remains forever.
If you’re grieving, I want you to know something important: you are not alone.
I see you. I feel your pain. And even though our stories may look different, we share the same ache of missing someone we love.
Words of Encouragement for the Grieving Heart
If you’ve read this far, I want to leave you with a reminder: grief is not linear. You don’t have to rush healing. You don’t have to apologize for the days you can’t get out of bed. You don’t have to explain why a song, a smell, or a memory completely undoes you.
Grief is love with nowhere to go. And as painful as it is, it’s also proof of the deep love you carry.
Prayer, Journaling and scripture has helped me to stay encouraged and have hope in my deepest darkest days. I am trying to turn my pain into purpose and am trying to encourage while encouraging myself to stay ROOTED in HIM this is the name of my new Grief Journal available NOW HERE. We kicked off the prelaunch of the grief journal with an event where others could come and get encouraged, connected and filled up together.
Are you in a Grieving Season? Let’s Talk About It
This space isn’t just about me — it’s about us. If you’re walking through grief, I’d love to hear your heart:
- What is one lesson grief has taught you?
- Do you resonate with one of these ten truths?
- Or maybe you’re supporting someone who’s grieving — what have you learned in that role?
Your comments matter. Your story matters. And I believe that when we share, we remind each other that none of us have to walk this road alone.
So please, drop a comment below. Let’s encourage one another.
How is it You found this grief side of the Crazy Busy Mama Blog?
For those of you finding this blog through search, welcome. Whether you typed in “how to cope with grief,” “grief lessons,” “healing after loss,” “encouragement for widows,” or “living with grief,” I hope you found comfort here.
Grief is messy. It’s unpredictable. But it can also be a teacher.
If you’re struggling right now, I encourage you to bookmark this page and come back whenever you need a reminder that you’re not alone. And if this post encouraged you, share it with a friend who might need the same encouragement.
Together, we can build a community that reminds grieving hearts: you are not broken, you are brave.
💬 Now it’s your turn — share your grief lessons in the comments. Let’s walk this journey together.
Much Love- Lori
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Grief has taught me I can do hard things…I dont like to, but I can. Coming up on 2 years Oct 25…we were high school sweethearts,married at 18, and married 41 years. I was 59 when I lost my person,my true north, kids grown, grandchildren…in a season of growth and now what. Thank you for your willingness to share your life and your grief. I ordered your journal, looking forward to digging in.
Thank you so much for sharing a piece of your story with me. “I can do hard things… I don’t like to, but I can” is such an honest way to describe grief. None of us would ever choose this road, but somehow we keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Forty one years together and high school sweethearts… that kind of love becomes woven into every part of your life. Losing your person, your true north, after building that much history together leaves such a deep space. And when the kids are grown and you thought you were stepping into a new season of life together, the “now what” can feel especially heavy.
Coming up on two years can bring a lot of emotions too. Those milestones have a way of reminding us just how much has changed, but also how much love still remains.
Thank you for trusting me enough to walk alongside me here. It means more than you know that you’re reading the journal, and I truly hope it feels like sitting down with a friend who understands some of the places your heart has been.
I’m praying that as you go through it, God meets you right in this season and gently reminds you that your story is still unfolding, even after such a great love. 💛
This Thursday will be 3 weeks my husband was laid to rest. It been hard navigating without him here. We have 2 amazing son’s. My oldest is 26 and my youngest is 23. Not only did I lose my husband they lost their dad. The man that encourage them everyday to work hard and always have confidence in all they do. My youngest son decided to quit college. He was a senior this year. I feel so guilty that he decide to quit college to help run his dad’s business. My oldest is an engineer and he’s thinking of quitting his job to help run his dad’s business. I have never felt so anxious in my life. Our lives has taken a 360 turn and my husband isn’t here to navigate. It scares me to keep moving forward and not knowing if we are making the right choices. My husband and I we were a team together now it’s just me navigating. That scares me. My other half not being here to help.
I don’t know how you came across my feeds but I glad I decided to watch you. I hope you are doing well and I’m sending my prayers.
Patricia- I am so sorry! My oldest son came home from being away at school, so I can relate to your mom guilt. But as you know, not only did you lose your best friend and husband your boys lost their father and your boys will grieve differently in their own ways and there is no wrong way to grieve. His decision to run his dads business, I am sure was not made lightly and he is trying to figure out his own path and honor his father the best way he knows how and that very well may be it. Who knows long term, but I am sure it providing purpose and peace for him in this difficult season. You are an amazing mother who wants the best for her boys it’s only natural you would feel this way, but I know God is working on their behalf and yours to make all things GOOD <3 I understand what you mean about feeling like every decision you make you question wether or not it is the right one. It's so hard. Please know that every decision you make now going forward has to be the decision that works best for you NOW. This is something that I have had to remind myself of time and time again. It may not be the decision your hubby would have made, but it is the it is the best one for you in your season of life now. I find it no coincidence we have connected- just goes to show Gods goodness and continued faithfulness. Lean into the hard, allow God to carry you...chin up you are loved and never alone my new friend.
I lost my husband almost 11 months ago. It is a long road. Some days I feel I’m making progress, other days I have set backs. That, my friend is grieving. I keep moving forward and try to find joy in each day. We are in the Christmas season, and I’m finding it has triggered a lot of tears. I try to remember all of our precious Christmas before his death. I was prepared for these emotional ambushes. I attended Grief Share, which was very beneficial for me!
I have learned I can do a lot of things I never even thought about doing. I maintain my home, mow and trim 1 1/4 acre lawn, plumber, mechanic etc.
I have a lot of support from friends and family. I have found many people are uncomfortable with tears. They have not been in my shoes. At some point they will understand. I only pray I can be the support that they will need at that time.
God has left me on this earth for a reason. I need to make the most of it. Until I meet my husband again in Heaven, I will continue on.
Thank you so much for sharing this. Eleven months is still such a tender place in grief, and everything you described is so real. Those days where you feel like you’re moving forward and then the days where it feels like the grief rushes back in… that truly is what grieving looks like. It’s not a straight line.
The holidays especially can bring those emotional ambushes. Christmas carries so many memories, traditions, and moments that were shared with the person we love. It’s beautiful that you are holding onto those precious Christmas memories with your husband, even when they bring tears. Those tears are such a reflection of a love that is still very much alive.
I also smiled reading the part about everything you’ve learned to do. Grief has a way of forcing us to discover strength we never even knew we had. Mowing 1¼ acres, fixing things around the house, becoming the plumber and mechanic… those are the quiet victories people don’t always see. But they matter so much.
You are also so right about how uncomfortable people can be with tears. Most people simply don’t understand until they’ve walked through a loss themselves. But your heart to one day be that support for someone else who is grieving says so much about the kind of person you are.
I love the way you ended your message too. That perspective of knowing God still has a purpose for you here is such a powerful anchor in the middle of grief. We keep moving forward, carrying the love with us, until the day we see them again.
Thank you for sharing your heart here. I know there are others reading these comments who will feel less alone because of your words. 💛
it has been over a year since my sweetheart of 66 years of marriage went to heaven. It was on Veterans day 2024 that the Lord took my Veteran to be with Him.
The grief is still very much in my every moment of my days. Nights seem.to be the worst in missing him, the chats, hugs and the good nights.
So many things daily happen to bring tears, grocery shopping when I.see his favorite cereal in the cereal aisle or see the chocolate milk that he loved.
Also at church, miss him in the church band playing his bass.guitar, seeing his replacement makes me teary eyed.
With so many years together I feel so lost and alone even with family near me.
I will see him.again at God’s appointed time,
I have my trust in the Lord that He will be my comfort and supply my every need through this time in my life.
It’s been 23 months and 2 days that I losy My Robert unexpectedly. The hardest thing for me has been making all the decisions without Him. yes, I talk things over with him, but the ultimate decision falls on my 2 shoulders. I know hecwoukd want me to be happy, smiling and loving. I am at times but as you said, when the grief hits, it hits hard. I know without a doubt I’ll see and be with him again we were married 54 years and together 57 years. There were great times and yes there were some not so great times but we made it work together. I can honestly say that we never went to sleep mad. we always talked it through andclnwentvt to sleep happy. I’m 77 years old and miss My Robert every day, every minute, every second. I do know he would want me to move forward and I’m trying. I guess we all have our good days and not so good. The more you love the harder grief is. I’ll take loving him all day every day.
Thank you so much for sharing this. Reading about the life you and Robert built together is so beautiful. Fifty four years of marriage and fifty seven years together is such a rare and incredible kind of love. You can feel how deeply you loved each other in the way you talk about him.
What you said about making decisions on your own really resonated with me. That is one of the hardest parts of losing your person. Even when we still talk to them in our hearts, the weight of those decisions suddenly feels so heavy when it all rests on our shoulders. That is a kind of loneliness that only someone who has lost their spouse truly understands.
I also love that you shared how you and Robert never went to bed mad and always worked things through. That says so much about the kind of partnership you had. Real love isn’t perfect, but it’s choosing each other again and again through the good days and the hard ones. What a beautiful example you both lived out.
You are so right when you said the more you love, the harder grief is. That is the price of a great love. And a love that lasted nearly six decades like yours doesn’t just disappear. It stays woven into every part of your life.
I can hear your strength in the way you are trying to move forward while still honoring him. That is all any of us can do in this journey. Some days we carry it well, and some days the grief hits hard just like you said. Both kinds of days are part of loving someone deeply.
Thank you for sharing a piece of your story here. Your love for Robert is still so present, and I know it encourages others reading these comments who are walking the same road. And what a beautiful hope we share in knowing that one day we will see them again. 💛
I’m also into a full year without my Honey! Bob was my rock and full of faith…I have learned I too can have strong faith like him. Life doesn’t stop especially with a teenage son. I’ve learned my grief and my children at home and grown is not the same. But we have a common thread, we all loved him so much. Yes, giving yourself grace to find joy again. I now feel I can still have life and life more abundantly just like the word of God says. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss Bob, but we still have a life to live for God doing His work until Jesus calls me home so I may be reunited with my Honey
What a beautiful reflection of faith and love for your husband. Here is a warm, personal response you could leave on your blog that fits your voice and encourages her:
Thank you so much for sharing this with me. I’m so sorry you are walking this road too, but I can feel the love you still carry for Bob through your words. One year is such a tender milestone in grief, and the way you are honoring him while still choosing to live the life God has in front of you is really powerful.
I relate so much to what you said about grief looking different for each person in the family. As moms, it can feel like we are holding our own grief while also watching our children carry theirs, and sometimes those journeys don’t look the same. But that common thread of love is such a beautiful way to describe it. The love doesn’t disappear just because they’re gone.
I also love what you said about discovering your own strong faith. Sometimes the people we love leave behind more than memories. They leave behind a faith that keeps growing in us long after they’re gone. What a gift Bob gave you and your children through that.
And you’re so right. Finding joy again doesn’t mean we miss them any less. It just means we are still living the life God has given us here until the day we see them again. That hope of reunion is such a powerful anchor.
Thank you for taking the time to share your story here. I know there are other widows reading these comments who will feel less alone because of it. 💛
I love following your story, we have a lot of similarities as I have four children as well but they are a bit younger than yours, ranging from one year to eight years old when he died. Sadly, he took his life after struggling for six months after someone hit him on his motorcycle, and he suffered from severe traumatic brain injuries, which completely changed him through and through. My first husband also passed away in a car wreck when I was in my 20s, but being older and having children with someone is completely different with this loss as he really was my best friend and soulmate.
Grief is still teaching me. It has taught me so much and one of the most important things probably is to genuinely not take things for granted, especially the little things, the simple things that truly means so much.
Always praying and rooting for you and your family, Lori!
Oh my goodness… I’m just sitting with this for a minute because your story holds so much. I am so incredibly sorry. To walk through *that kind* of loss once is unimaginable… and then again, in such a different and deeply personal way, with your children in the middle of it all… that is a weight not many people can truly understand.
What you said about this loss being different because he was your best friend and soulmate… that hits so deeply. When it’s the person you built a life with, raised babies with, shared the everyday with… the absence touches *everything*. There’s no part of life it doesn’t reach.
And the layer of what he went through after the accident… watching someone you love change like that, grieving pieces of them while they’re still here, and then losing them… that is its own kind of heartbreak. I just want you to know I see that, and it matters.
But I also see something really beautiful in what you shared… that even through all of this, grief is still *teaching* you. That perspective of not taking the little things for granted… that is so powerful, and I know that didn’t come easy. That came through walking through fire.
I’m really grateful you shared this here, because I know there are other women reading who feel alone in complicated grief, in layered loss, in raising young children while carrying it all… and your words remind them they’re not the only one.
I’m praying for you too. Truly. For strength in the everyday, for moments of peace in the chaos, and for continued healing in places that still ache.
If you’re open to sharing… what are some of those “little things” that mean the most to you now? I think that could be really special for others to read and hold onto too 🤍