After my husband passed, people kept telling me how strong I was. It was infuriating, exasperating, frustrating, and every other synonym you can think of in that category. What choice did I have? It wasn’t as though I woke up one day and decided to be “strong.”  I woke up one day and found myself walking alone!

There have certainly been days when I wanted to pull the covers over my head and shut out the world. And sometimes, I did just that. Grief can be exhausting, overwhelming, and utterly consuming. I don’t believe that makes us weak. Nor do I believe that finding the courage to face another day makes us stronger than someone who is struggling to do the same. For me, there eventually came a realization that, although I had no choice in losing the life I knew, I still had choices about how I would live the life before me. Those choices weren’t always easy, and I certainly didn’t make them gracefully every day. But they were mine to make.  

Redefining Courage

Merriam-Webster defines courage as, “mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or the ability to do something that frightens one.” Courage is not the absence of fear, as many would have us believe. It is, in fact, the opposite. Courage is the act of moving forward despite fear — despite the overwhelming weight of grief and the uncertainty of a future you never imagined living.

It’s frightening to live this life without him. Some days, the fear and sadness threaten to consume me. But I’ve learned that courage isn’t about banishing those feelings. It’s about carrying them with me and continuing anyway.

I am glad I’ve fought through it. Because of that fight, I’ve been able to see our grandchildren grow up—to see them laugh, play, and achieve milestones I know he would have cherished. I’ve been able to share his stories with them, to keep him alive in their hearts and in the world. Every time I see their joy, I’m reminded that life, even in the shadow of loss, is still worth living.

For Those Still Fighting

If you’re reading this and feeling the weight of loss, know this: it’s okay to feel weak. It’s okay to cry, to be angry, and to struggle. Strength doesn’t mean you never falter. Sometimes, simply making it through another day takes more courage than anyone around us can see.

I pray that you will get to the point where you’re happy to be alive again. It won’t happen overnight, and it won’t happen without pain. But one day, you’ll take a step forward and realize that, despite it all, you’re still standing. And that is strength.