At times my life was unbearable but I bore it. I bore it while playing safe when anyone asked me how I was. I could not say I was as bad off as I was; it just didn’t seem right. Having lived the second part of my life, I can now say that grief never goes away. It goes underground.

I have learned that magazine or book articles on grief always offer hope. Hope is a very weak word. I lean more toward words like “indelible” or “constant.” The fruits of grief range from suicide to stoic endurance. I never considered suicide so stoic endurance is what I know a lot about.

After my husband’s death I went to a female spirituality group for five years. I took Tai Chi for five years and the other five years went to various programs at a cancer wellness group. Now I am alone in the house and am quite happy. My son and I have come to terms with what our mutual family life has been like. No one but us can understand it and we don’t use words for it. Instead we have come to understand silence.

The pandemic has reduced the globe to social distancing. I had already done that twice in my life. I did it when my child’s white count got so low that we couldn’t allow her to be around more than a handful of people. I did it when caring for my husband took all of my time.

Now social distancing, while mandatory in most places, makes people depressed and afraid. I have been that way and learned to deal with it. In my house there is a deep pool of peace along with a gratitude for having survived. But survival is supposed to be replaced by thriving. I cannot say that I am thriving.

What I have learned about enlightenment could be engraved on a penny. “Wake up or sleep on.” The mantra for it is “Fortitude.” If you think that I am to be admired for losing a child and husband, think again. The word is respected.

And respecting respect, I respect anyone that has gone through the valley of the shadow and kept walking until they saw just a speck of light. Hopefully that speck will grow if we keep walking. The walking itself makes the darkened earth a bit lighter for everyone.

Vicki Woodyard