Touched by loss. Empowered through community.


Monday, January 30, 2012
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Let’s face it.  There is no way to accurately explain to all of the non-widowed people out there what it’s like to be us.  There aren’t words to describe the depth of our pain, the emptiness, the longing, and the sheer sadness that accompany the loss of a spouse. 

Recently, I had to explain it.  It seemed crazy to me to have to justify WHY this event had altered my life.   How could you expect me to be the same person I was before when the rug had been pulled out from under me like this? 

Maybe it’s because it’s been 2 ½ years.  30 months.  Nearly 1,000 days.  I suppose I am supposed to be “over” it.  It’s difficult - nearly impossible - to explain to people how it stays with us, becomes part of us, and affects us… always. 

I explained it this way:  Imagine losing a leg, and being told that you'll have to run a marathon, every day, for the rest of your life. That's what it feels like.  Each day is a marathon – one that I haven’t trained for.   Along with the pressure and pain of running a marathon, remember, I am missing a leg.  I don’t know how to run without my leg.  I move slowly, sometimes in agony, but I have to keep going.  I’ve never run a marathon before.  I often have to crawl and drag myself through the course, and I am figuring it out as I go along, mile by mile.  There’s no finish line to this marathon.  It goes on and on.  Sometimes it feels like I won’t make it.  There will be people who will hold me up as I run, knowing how difficult this is.  But, there will also be people who turn away as I limp by – after all, it can be hard to watch someone in that kind of pain.

Losing Kev impacted many people, but for me it changed everything about my life, and it changed me.  I am not the same person.  I didn’t lose a leg, but I lost part of who I am, and although my legs remain intact, everything else about me feels different. 

These daily marathons can seem overwhelming.  But, I’ve gotten used to running. I am getting better at it.  I am stronger.  I will never be as fast as I was before, but I won’t quit.

After 2 ½ years of marathons, I know two things for certain.  I will fall.  And I will get back up.


Laura, wow, what a beautiful article. And what an amazing way to describe what is so difficult for us to understand. I just want to let you know that I am here to hold you up if you ever need it. And you are the best marathoner I know!! XOXO, Sarah

Wow, Laura. That was beautifully written - especially for such a tough topic. As someone who hasn't been through this kind of struggle, it was a great explanation to help me see it through your eyes.

Laura, you amaze me! You find the perfect way to let us know what you're going through, and how hard it really is even though you handle yourself with such grace. I'm with Sarah - I'll always be here to hold you up when you need it. I love you! Suz

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