I stood at the edge of the river as my grandson swam around, laughter and joy exuding from everyone there—my kids in the background talking about life… and yet, there was this deep moment of loss. I stood with my back to them, tears streaming down my face.

It seems that everything is muted now—not that I didn’t appreciate the beauty of the river, but someone was missing… Lew. 💔

I’ve wrestled with change… not wanting to see it in my life. Feeling like, “If I change, I’m leaving him behind.”
And yet, change is happening all around us… gently though—just like leaves fall from a tree only to produce more leaves… or fruit. 🍃 It’s the natural order of things in life.

Widowhood is a very interesting place to be, wouldn’t you say? So many questions, and so few answers… until you start to ask yourself better questions. Not with judgment or shame—just with curiosity. 🤍

I am not the same woman I was a year and a half ago. I’ve been chasing her… and yet she has been gently whispering, “It’s not me you need anymore.” That brought me to tears… because I’m scared.

As we walk this road of grief and widowhood, I can see that this isn’t just my story—it’s yours too. I know the deep loss—not just losing him (which is the greatest loss of my life), but the loss of what was… all the secondary losses that seem to permeate everyday moments.

Life is moving, just like the river flows gently. 🌊 And as we move with our grief, one thing remains true:
We will always miss the one person we spent so much of our lives with.
We miss the laughter only the two of us shared.
We miss the arguments too…let’s face it… for me, I was probably the thorn in his side, but he always tolerated me. I smile thinking about that.
We miss the quiet moments of doing nothing together….just watching Netflix and sitting close.
But most of all… I miss the way he looked at me and SAW me.
He saw me.
He knew every inch of who I was….and he knew me intimately, not just as a lover, but as a woman who struggled with parts of herself.
He saw those parts without judgment.
He was kind.
And he was my best friend because of it.

In widowhood, we tend to feel unseen. We feel like everyone else has moved on.
And we wonder, who notices us now?

This is a story we repeat to ourselves….not because we want to be victims—but because it’s our reality.
We have been victimized by this loss.
But we are not victims.

I don’t want to camp here, though. I’m choosing to bring light to this dark place we call grief in widowhood.
We can remind the world that we are still here.
Not by hiding, and not by shouting…
But by living. 🌟

We don’t need to fear who we are. That girl, my sweet Gina, who was married to the funniest, most annoying man, and loyal man ….is calling to me (and to you).
She’s saying:
“It’s ok to Move….when you are ready.”

And there is no rush to do this.
If you’re resistant to this idea, then stay right where you are.
But if you’re like me… and you’re whispering, “OK, Lew… where do I go now…”
Then with tears in your eyes, take one step in front of the other—allow the unfolding and the receiving to happen. Don’t force it. Just be open.

You are not alone on this journey.
I SEE you.
I see your beauty and I’ll be the voice in your head that says:
✨ “YOU, my love, are beautiful… because you are still here.
Walking with your grief.
Even if you and I didn’t choose this path—we are here.
And our beauty… is who we are.” ✨
Love you guys, and I can’t wait to see you Thursday at 3 PM PST.
Hugs,
Gina 🤍