Susan Rardon
Rose, Ph.D.
We all go through life as if tomorrow is promised, as if everything will continue as it always has. Bob and I even joked about who would "get to go first." But the truth is, in every partnership, one will live the rest of life without the other. Knowing this doesn’t make it easier, though. No matter how much we think we’re ready, we’re never truly prepared for the day we have to say goodbye.
That’s why the stages of grief, particularly anger, feel so raw and universal. The shock, the denial, the overwhelming sadness—it’s all part of the process, yet it never feels linear. With Bob’s birthday just two days away, I find myself once again ebbing and flowing through the stages of grief. It’s like being caught in the ocean’s current or tossed about by a relentless wind. Just when I think I’ve found solid ground, a wave of emotions pulls me under again.
Anniversaries and significant dates have a way of reopening wounds we thought were healing. Bob’s birthday is a bittersweet reminder of all the beautiful moments we shared and all the milestones we will never get to celebrate together, especially as he only had 58 years. On these days, I find it hard to focus on anything but the absence of his laughter, his presence, and his love. And yet, in the midst of the sadness, there’s also gratitude for the time we did have.
Grief is complicated because it doesn’t erase the joy we’ve known. I miss Bob deeply, but I’m also grateful for the memories, for the legacy he left behind, and for the journey we got to share. I continue to remind myself that sadness and happiness can exist in the same moment. (It's like if I say it enough, society will get it. Yet, I am also aware of how uncomfortable grief is. Most want to remain uninformed of it.) It’s okay to feel the ache of loss while also finding reasons to smile. That’s the paradox of grief — it teaches us to hold both emotions in our hearts at the same time.
To those weathering the storm of grief, I want you to know you’re not alone. It takes incredible strength to face each day, to navigate the shifting tides of emotions, and to find meaning in the midst of sorrow. Some days are harder than others, but each day survived is a victory in itself.
As Bob’s birthday approaches, I find comfort in knowing that each day brings me one step closer to seeing him again. This separation is only temporary, and until that reunion, I will continue to carry his love in my heart. Life without him isn’t what I imagined, but his love and memory give me the courage to keep moving forward. For those of you grieving, my prayers are with you as you navigate your own storms. Together, we can find hope in the knowledge that love transcends even the greatest of losses.
I am a school counselor turned counselor educator, professor, and author helping educators and parents to build social, emotional, and academic growth in ALL kids! The school counseling blog delivers both advocacy as well as strategies to help you deliver your best school counseling program.
I'm a mother, grandmother, professor, author, and wife (I'll always be his). Until October 20, 2020, I lived with my husband, Robert (Bob) Rose, in Louisville, Ky. On that awful day of October 20,2020, my life profoundly changed, when this amazing man went on to Heaven. After Bob moved to Heaven, I embraced my love of writing as an outlet for grief. Hence, the Grief Blog is my attempt to share what I learned as a Counselor in education with what I am learning through this experience of walking this earth without him. My mission is to help those in grief move forward to see joy beyond this most painful time.
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