There is a moment in grief that nobody prepares you for.
It’s not the funeral.
It’s not the first holiday.
It’s not even the anniversary of their death.
It’s the first time you genuinely laugh again.
I remember the first time I laughed after Q passed away.
For just a split second, I forgot.
I laughed.
And then almost immediately, guilt came rushing in.
Not because I thought Quintin wouldn’t want me to be happy. I know he would.
The guilt came from realizing that life was continuing without him.
The kids would keep growing.
Milestones would happen.
Graduations.
Future weddings.
Future grandchildren.
Family traditions would change.
New memories would be made.
And Q would never know any of it.
That was a hard pill to swallow.
Why Happiness Feels So Wrong After Loss
When you lose your spouse, you don’t just lose a person.
You lose an entire way of life.
The life you built together disappears overnight.
Every area of your life changes.
Parenting changes.
Friendships change.
Finances change.
Household responsibilities change.
Intimacy changes.
Even your identity changes.
Suddenly the person who helped carry the weight of the world is gone.
And now you’re expected to keep living.
People often think grief is only about losing someone else.
But what I discovered was that I was grieving myself too.
The version of me that existed when Q was alive was gone.
In many ways, the day Q died, a part of me died too.
The Things People Say That Don’t Help
I know people mean well.
I truly do.
But some of the things people said during my grief journey felt impossible to hear.
“At least you still have your kids.”
“Your husband left you financially secure.”
“Q would want you to be happy.”
“You’re so strong.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“God won’t give you more than you can handle.”
The reality is none of those things replaced my person.
Not one of them.
Financial security doesn’t replace a husband.
Children don’t replace a spouse.
Being strong doesn’t make loss hurt less.
And while I know people were trying to help, most of their words fell on deaf ears because I simply couldn’t imagine happiness ever existing alongside grief.
Healing Takes Time
One of the greatest misconceptions about grief is that time heals all wounds.
I don’t believe that’s entirely true.
Time alone doesn’t heal.
What you do with the time matters.
But time is still necessary.
Healing requires both.
Learning to live again is like rewiring your brain.
You’re taking traumatic memories and slowly allowing God to create space for beautiful ones again.
That process doesn’t happen overnight.
It’s slow.
Messy.
Painful.
And holy all at the same time.
You Don’t Get To Choose The Loss
One truth that changed my life was realizing this:
You don’t get to choose what happens to you.
But you do get to choose what you do next.
I Didn’t Choose The Loss, But I Chose The Healing
I didn’t choose to lose my husband.
I didn’t choose to become a widow.
I didn’t choose this road.
But eventually I realized I had a choice to make.
I could stay trapped in bitterness.
Or I could slowly begin choosing healing.
Not because I wanted what happened.
But because I didn’t want grief to have the final word.
Choosing Joy Doesn’t Mean Forgetting
This is where many grieving people get stuck.
We think choosing joy means we’re leaving our loved one behind.
But joy and remembrance can exist together.
I believe learning to choose joy is one of the greatest ways we can honor those we love.
Not because we stop missing them.
Not because the ache disappears.
But because their life mattered enough to inspire us to keep living.
And yet even knowing that, guilt still shows up.
Maybe you’ve felt it too.
You smile and feel guilty.
You take a vacation and feel guilty.
You enjoy a holiday and feel guilty.
You start dreaming again and feel guilty.
You meet someone new and feel guilty.
The guilt whispers:
“If you’re happy, maybe you didn’t love them enough.”
But that’s a lie.
Love isn’t measured by how miserable you remain.
For a long time, I thought my pain was proof of my love.
The deeper I hurt, the more it showed how much I loved him.
But eventually I realized something:
My suffering wasn’t honoring Q.
My living was.
My healing was.
My laughter was.
My willingness to keep showing up was.
Renewing Your Mind Daily
Part of healing has been learning to recognize what grief is trying to tell me.
The anger.
The confusion.
The unanswered questions.
The shock.
The sadness.
Those feelings still show up.
But now when they do, I pause.
I acknowledge them.
I give myself grace.
And then I surrender them to God.
Not because it’s easy.
Because it’s necessary.
Scripture tells us to renew our minds daily.
Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind- Romans 12:2
That’s because our minds are often a battlefield.
The enemy would love nothing more than to convince us that our story ended when theirs did.
But it didn’t.
The old version of me died when Q died.
That’s true.
But God has been faithfully rebuilding something new.
We Were Never Meant For Death
I believe one of the reasons grief feels so unbearable is because we were never created for death.
Death was never God’s original design.
The pain feels unnatural because it is.
We were created for relationship.
For connection.
For eternity.
That’s why grief leaves such a deep ache.
But that’s also why the hope of Heaven matters so much.
Because this isn’t the end.
The Hope Found In Christ
John 3:16 says:
“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
Because of Jesus, death doesn’t get the final say.
Because of Jesus, separation is temporary.
Because of Jesus, we have hope.
The kind of hope that produces joy even when circumstances don’t make sense.
A joy that points directly back to Him.
This is a true Joy that we will see our loved ones again!
Letting Go Of The Guilt
Today I know two things.
Quintin wants me to live fully.
And my Heavenly Father wants me to live fully too.
The ache is still there.
I still miss him.
I always will.
But I am choosing joy anyway.
I’m choosing to laugh.
To dream.
To love.
To serve.
To live.
And I am saying goodbye to the guilt of being happy again.
Because happiness doesn’t dishonor his memory.
It honors the life we built together.
For a long time, I spent most of my energy looking backward.
Looking at what was.
Looking at who I used to be.
Looking at the life I thought I would still have.
If I’m honest, there were seasons when I became so focused on what was behind me that I completely missed what God was placing in front of me.
But eventually God began teaching me something powerful:
Healing isn’t about forgetting what was behind me.
It’s about trusting Him with what is ahead of me.
The more I released my grip on guilt, the more I began to see that God wasn’t finished writing my story.
In fact, I believe He was doing a new thing all along.
Today I am making a choice to get rid of the guilt and shame of living a full life of abundance.
God created me to live an abundant life here on earth so I could overflow into the lives of others from the abundance He has poured into me.
Life is but a vapor.
It is short.
So seize every moment with the people you love.
Spend intentional time learning to love well.
Serve well.
Forgive often.
And point people to the One who loves us the very most, Jesus.
Friend, Can I Ask You Something?
Have you ever felt guilty for smiling again after loss?
For laughing?
For taking a trip?
For dreaming about your future?
For finding joy?
Do you believe choosing to live your best life honors the person you lost?
Or is that something you still wrestle with?
I’d love for you to share your story in the comments below.
Not because you’re alone.
But because you’re not.
Your story may be the encouragement someone else desperately needs today.
Let’s create a community of hope together.
Let’s remind each other that grief and joy can coexist.
And that choosing to live again isn’t betrayal.
It’s healing.
And healing is something worth celebrating.
Hi Lori,
I’ve watched you before Q passed, after and now. What a journey you all have had to endure and I personally can not even begin to imagine.
But, I see the beautiful testimony despite everything that has happened.
Thank you for being faithful to God despite all the tears.
God bless
Thank you so much for your kind words. ❤️ It has certainly been a journey that I never imagined walking, but through every season, God has remained faithful. There were many days when I couldn’t see what He was doing, yet He never stopped carrying me. If my story points even one person to His goodness and hope, then every tear has had purpose. Thank you for following along through every chapter and for taking the time to encourage me. God bless you!
You don’t need to explain yourself. Finding happiness doesn’t diminish y feelings for Quinn .. I hope your kids are old enough to understand that.. enjoy your happiness.. We’re only on earth a brief time. I’m glad you’re experiencing love again!!!
Candace, thank you so much for this encouragement. ❤️ You’re right—loving again doesn’t diminish the incredible love Quintin and I shared. It simply reflects the God who continues to bring life and hope, even after deep loss.
Thank you, Lori, for your thoughts and being willing to be so raw and open about this horrible road you’ve been forced to take.
It’s been 14 months and 14 days since Trudy passed, and there is so much to say that I don’t even know where to begin.
To sum it all up in one phrase, I guess it would be, “I’m not ready.”
For three days in the emergency room, I watched her dispense counsel, warnings, and blessings in the only way she knew how, right up in your grill. On the phone or in the room, she talked to siblings, nieces, nephews, friends, students, and parents, right up until the point she didn’t have the strength to talk any longer. When Trudy died, her wisdom, her unique connection with God, and her outlook on life all went with her. She is the wisest person I have ever met in my 61 years. I have not yet learned how to live without that.
She told me to do what I always do – put it all in a room, and close and lock the door. But I can’t close that door. The room is too small, there’s too much stuff, and I am simply unable.
I know what she wants and what she spent years preparing me for. But it’s just not in me to let it happen right now.
dp
Darrin, thank you for trusting me with such a deeply personal part of your story. ❤️ I can feel how much you loved Trudy through every word you wrote.
“I’m not ready” is a completely understandable place to be. There isn’t a timeline for grief, and there isn’t a right or wrong way to carry someone you’ve loved so deeply.
The picture you painted of Trudy—ministering to everyone around her, even from a hospital bed—is incredibly moving. What a remarkable legacy she left, not just in what she taught, but in how she lived.
One thing I’ve learned is that moving forward doesn’t mean leaving our loved one behind. We carry them with us into every new season. When you’re ready—and only when you’re ready—you may find that honoring her legacy isn’t about closing the door, but opening new ones because of what she poured into you.
I’ll be praying for you as you continue walking this road. Thank you again for sharing her with all of us.
Dear Friend
Grief is one of the heaviest burdens a heart can carry. It arrives uninvited, settles deep within us, and changes the landscape of our lives. Whether we have lost a loved one, a dream, a relationship, or a chapter of life we cherished, grief reminds us of the depth of our love and the significance of what was lost.There is no right way to grieve. Some days grief comes as tears that seem endless. Other days it appears as silence, exhaustion, anger, confusion, or even moments of laughter followed by guilt. All of it is part of the journey. Grief is not a straight path; it is a winding road with unexpected turns.Many people think healing means forgetting or “moving on.” But healing is not about leaving our loved ones behind. It is about learning to carry their memory forward. It is finding ways to honor their impact on our lives while continuing to live our own. Love does not end when someone is gone. It changes form, becoming memories, lessons, traditions, and a permanent place in our hearts.If you are grieving today, be gentle with yourself. Allow yourself to feel what you feel. Rest when you need to. Reach out when the weight becomes too much to carry alone. There is courage in asking for help and strength in sharing your pain.In time, the sharp edges of grief may soften. The ache may become less constant. You may find yourself smiling at memories that once brought only tears. This does not mean you loved less. It means love is helping you heal.Grief is the price we pay for love, and while the cost can feel overwhelming, the love that remains is a gift that can never be taken away.
With compassion and understanding,
A Fellow Traveler
♥️ Lori, you express yourself so beautifully, I am blessed reading your blogs. I see the need in my life to surrender and release expectations of how my life should feel. 💕Dana
Dana, your words mean more than you know. ❤️ One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is releasing the expectations I had for how I thought my life would unfold.
Surrender isn’t giving up—it’s trusting that God can still write a beautiful story, even when it looks nothing like the one we planned.
I’m so thankful you’re here, and I pray God continues to meet you with peace as you take each next step. 🤍
You are doing exactly what your loved ones want for you. Remember that grief is the price of love. Both will always be with you.
Crystal, I love this reminder so much. ❤️ Grief truly is the price of deep love, and while we would never choose the pain, we also wouldn’t trade the love that caused it.
Thank you for speaking such hope into this community. Comments like yours remind us that we’re not walking this road alone. 🤍
Karen, thank you for taking the time to write such a beautiful and thoughtful message. ❤️ I found myself nodding along as I read every word.
One thing I’ve learned is that healing isn’t about forgetting the people we love—it’s about learning to carry them with us as we continue living the life God has still given us. That doesn’t happen overnight, and it certainly doesn’t happen without tears.
I especially loved your reminder that love doesn’t end… it changes form. That is such a comforting truth. Thank you for pouring hope into this community and reminding so many grieving hearts that they aren’t alone.
Wishing you God’s peace as you continue encouraging others the way you’ve encouraged me today. 🤍
I completely relate.
It does take time AND a choice to heal, move forward, and rebuild life after the loss of my spouse. It was shocking to laugh for the first time. I honestly thought I never would. For me, I feel like God put breadcrumbs out for me to follow through the valley of the shadow of death. As I moved forward, he put a person, group, event, or thing in front of me to see, do, or meet. They have kept me moving forward. Thank you, Lori, 😊 for being one of those breadcrumbs!
Teresa, thank you so much for this encouragement. ❤️ I absolutely love the picture of God leaving “breadcrumbs” along the path. Looking back, I can see He has done that in my life too, even when I couldn’t see where He was leading in the moment.
I truly believe He places people, opportunities, and moments in our lives to gently remind us that our story isn’t over. Thank you for reminding all of us to keep looking for those breadcrumbs of hope.
Your words blessed me today more than you know. I’m so grateful you’re part of this community. 🤍