Susan Rardon
Rose, Ph.D.
One day, your story of survival will become someone else’s survival guide. That idea has been on my heart as I navigate the journey of grief and healing, and it’s the foundation of this blog. Every wound we endure, every challenge we face, and every moment we survive has the potential to offer hope and guidance to someone else walking a similar path.
When my husband moved to heaven on October 20, 2020, my world shattered. In the weeks and months that followed, I found myself grappling with emotions so profound and overwhelming that I often felt like I was drowning. The grief was raw and relentless. I had moments when even taking a breath felt like a monumental task. Yet, as the days passed, I began to find small anchors—pieces of advice, shared stories, and moments of connection with others who had also experienced deep loss. Those anchors reminded me that while I was in uncharted waters, I was not entirely alone.
In those early days, it was the stories of others that gave me the strength to keep going. Hearing how someone else had faced their darkest days and come through them gave me hope that I might do the same. Those shared experiences became a survival guide for my own journey. Now, I’ve come to realize that my story, too, has the potential to be someone else’s lifeline.
Grief is deeply personal, and everyone’s journey is different. But there are universal truths in the midst of the pain. We’ve all felt the sting of loss, the ache of an empty space that once was filled with love and laughter. And while our stories may not be the same, the strength and resilience we cultivate in the aftermath of loss can inspire others.
Through this blog, my goal has been and is to share the lessons I’ve learned, the moments of hope I’ve discovered, and the ways I’ve found to honor my husband’s memory while still moving forward. This isn’t about finding a “fix” for grief, because grief isn’t something you fix. It’s something you live with and carry, learning over time how to shoulder the weight while continuing to live a meaningful life.
If you’re reading this and feeling lost in your own grief, I want you to know that your story matters. The pain you’re enduring now is part of a larger narrative, one that has the potential to bring hope to someone else in the future. It may not feel like it now, but the fact that you’re here, reading this, means you are surviving. And survival, in itself, is a powerful testament to the human spirit.
One day, you will look back on the path you’ve traveled and realize how far you’ve come. You will see the moments of grace, the glimmers of light that broke through the darkness, and the strength you didn’t know you had. And when you share that story—whether in a conversation with a friend, a post on social media, or a blog like this one—you will be offering someone else a lifeline.
Thank you for being here, for reading, and for allowing me to share my journey with you. My hope is that together, through the sharing of our stories, we can create a community of resilience, understanding, and hope. You are not alone, and your survival today may one day be the guide someone else needs to navigate their tomorrow.
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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