Losing my husband Collin to leukemia completely shattered my world. It was devastating, and it tore apart my life, took my future, and everything we had built together. In his 40 years of life, Collin touched countless hearts with his kindness, humor, and unwavering strength. He faced his diagnosis with courage and resilience, fighting tirelessly against the disease. But despite his valiant efforts, leukemia claimed him, and now there is a void in my life that can never be filled.

After his death, grief engulfed me like a tsunami, threatening to consume me whole. The pain was raw, and unyielding, and I struggled to continue life without him by my side. Memories of our time together haunted every waking moment, each cherished memory serving as a painful reminder of what I no longer possessed. It felt like a robbery, leaving me utterly powerless. 

But as I stumbled through the maze of grief, I began to understand its sacred significance. My grief serves as a reminder of the depth of our love—a love that transcends the boundaries of time and space. It’s a sacred bond that remains unbroken, even in death. It’s a testament to the depth of love we share. My grief is the sacred proof that my husband was and still is ever present in my life. 

In the depths of grief, I uncovered the beauty found there. It was in the darkness that I discovered the true resilience of the human spirit. You see, grief has a way of stripping away the facades we wear and revealing our most authentic selves. It forces us to confront our deepest fears and vulnerabilities, laying bare the rawness of our emotions.

Through grief, we learn to embrace the full spectrum of human experience, the joy and the pain, the love and the loss. It’s a testament to the depth of our connections with those we’ve lost, a reminder that their memory lives on in the hearts of those who loved them.

However, people often misunderstand grief. Many interpret this to mean that they need to hold onto the pain, believing their pain is their connection to their loved one. They might fear that feeling gratitude or joy instead of pain means leaving their loved one behind. To that, I say: forgetting them and leaving them behind is impossible. You bring them with you as you move forward. This is how you RISE with grief.

As I continue to walk this path of healing, I hold fast to the belief that my grief is sacred. It’s evidence of the eternal nature of the love that Collin and I have for each other, a beacon of light in the darkness of loss. Healing is not a linear process, and though the pain may never fully subside, I take comfort in knowing that Collin’s spirit lives on. With each step I take, I move closer to finding peace and acceptance in his absence.