Susan Rardon
Rose, Ph.D.
If I don’t manage to spread any other message through my sharing than this one, then I will feel that I have accomplished my goal. It is such a misunderstanding that we “accept” loss or “get through” it. We instead learn to carry our pain a little lighter as we walk alongside it.
That is the primary purpose of this blog: to help me walk alongside the grief for the most amazing man that ever walked this earth. I am reminded of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s quote, “One of the most beautiful compensations of this life is that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.”
As a counselor educator, I began this blog to help other counselors. Yet, in the midst, I went through this life-changing event. And pain, just as any feeling, needs expression. As Megan Devine so eloquently expresses, “the human mind naturally goes to creative expression; it’s the way we’re built. We are storytelling creatures.” It’s not that writing, or any creative activity, is healing in and of itself. I don’t believe by any stretch of the imagination that creating something out of grief makes it a “fair trade” or even that it will move me out of the fog at a faster rate. What I do believe is that writing it down will help me to make sense of the world, especially now when everything that’s happened seems to make no sense.
So, I began with the very personal story that brought us to where we are. And, yes, I will always use the “royal” we. One does not partner with another for over 38 years without carrying that soul for all eternity. I continue to wear the “married ring” as my granddaughter affectionately termed it many years ago. I will be his wife forever. Death does not part us. It simply changes the relationship. Writing allows that connection to continue. The stories are a continuation of love.
In sharing these stories, I hope to create a space where others can find solace and understanding. Grief is a journey that we each travel in our own way, but there is comfort in knowing that we are not alone. By documenting my experiences, I aim to provide a roadmap for those who find themselves in similar situations, struggling to make sense of their own loss.
Through this blog, I want to emphasize that it's okay to feel a multitude of emotions—anger, sadness, confusion, even moments of joy. Grief is not linear, and it does not follow a prescribed path. It is messy, unpredictable, and deeply personal. But in sharing our stories, we create a tapestry of human experience that is rich with empathy and compassion.
Writing has become a lifeline for me, a way to process the overwhelming emotions that accompany loss. It allows me to express the inexpressible, to put into words the profound void left by my beloved’s passing. Each entry is a tribute to the life we shared and a testament to the enduring bond that transcends physical separation.
This blog is not just a recounting of sorrow but a celebration of love. It is a way to honor my husband’s memory, to keep his spirit alive through the stories that defined our life together. Each word is a step towards healing, a way to navigate the new reality I find myself in.
In the end, this blog is a promise—to myself, to my husband, and to those who read these words. It is a promise to continue living fully, to cherish the moments we had, and to carry his light forward. It is a commitment to find beauty in the bittersweet symphony of love and loss, to acknowledge that while grief may walk beside us, it does not have to overshadow the joy and love that remain.
We may never fully "get over" our losses, but we can learn to live with them, to find a way to move forward while honoring the past. This journey is about more than just surviving; it’s about finding a way to thrive, to live a life that would make our loved ones proud.
So, I invite you to walk with me through these pages, to share in the stories of a love that endures beyond time and space. Together, we can find a way to carry our grief a little lighter, to walk alongside it with grace and courage. And in doing so, we can discover that even in the depths of sorrow, there is room for hope, healing, and a renewed sense of purpose.
References
Devine, M. (2017). It’s OK That You’re Not OK: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture That Doesn’t Understand. Boulder, CO: Sounds True. (ISBN: 97871622039074)
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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