Remembering Vicky - Three Years After Her Death

This Sunday, May 14th 2023, marks the third anniversary of Vicky’s death.

I decided to look back and reflect with you the journey of grief I've been on. I have two perspectives. One is the experience I had the 10 days after she died in 2020. Second, I want to bring you up to date on how I view my life today in 2023. 

My hope is that this will encourage you who are grieving plus provide a story of hope for those looking for ways to encourage those in your life who might be grieving now. 

Part one is a look into my journal entries from the week Vicky died. The second part is in the form of a poem I wrote now, three years later. 

Part One: Three Years Ago - May 14-25, 2020

May 14th — Today Vicky died. Words can’t express what that feels like. I gave her anti-gurgling medicine at 1:30 am, then when I got up at 3 am to give her pain medicine, she was gone. I loved her with my whole heart.

May 15th — There are few words that ease the pain but there are words that reassure me of the many promises I can base my life on as the tears of grief flow freely.

May 16th — Day 2 without Vicky. Still numb. I was awake between two and three feeling a weighty achy restlessness.

May 17th — I don’t know what’s coming but I’m just going to stay in the present moment and be with my grief.

May 18th — My heart hurts — like chest pains that will not be relieved. Tears can flow at any second.

May 19th — “It came in like a whirlwind and left us devastated and destroyed.” — Unknown

May 20th — “I’m up to my ears in a swamp of affliction. I try to make the best of it, try to brave it out, but you’re too much for me.” — Job

May 21st — “He (God) takes no pleasure in making life hard, in throwing road-blocks in the way.” — Jeremiah

May 23nd — A grief denied is a grief unhealed.

May 24th — “While steeling yourself against the harsh realities of life may protect you from some pain, that same steel can become bars that keep you from being transformed by “the holy power that life itself comes from.” — Frederich Buechner

May 25th — I’m in the dark and can’t see my hand in front of my face.

Part Two: Present Day - May 14, 2023

Reflections on Where I’m At in My Grief Journey Now

Here it is just three years after Vicky died,
I’m a changed man with very little to hide.
I hold all the memories as cherished gifts indeed,
And am grateful for the healing I very much did need.

The journey has been fraught with ups and downs throughout,
I’m enjoyed lots of rain showers and the occasional drought.
I’ve had empathetic witnesses walk along beside,
And when I faced the darkness, I looked and found wise guides.

Words are hard to order when describing this journey of grief,
I’ve had days of pleasant sailing interrupted by damage from an unseen reef.
The advice I gave to others, I heeded for myself,
Like “validate your grief” and “add helpful books to your shelf.”

An identity crisis I had when a husband I ceased to be,
Was I single or a widower? Who was the new me?
In time I learned anew that my identity was intact,
And God reassured me, “You’re my beloved son — a fact!”

Five months after Vicky died, a voice in my heart did say,
“Be a grief mentor to others and help them on their way.”
It took a while to find my path and get busy with the call,
But now I see in various ways, how I’m running with the ball.

While looking at the rearview mirror, it was hard to think I’d thrive,
Survival was my default and I wasn’t very alive.
With time and inner work done often, my heart and mind did shift,
From stuck and sad and lonely to seeing hardship as a gift.

This grief journey that I travel is not the same for all,
But unique and custom crafted — definitely a tough haul.
If ever you did wonder, is there healing for us all?
I hold a hopeful posture but no time line to install.

Let your grief be felt most deeply if a bitter cup you now drink,
Look for supportive friends and ideas to help you feel and think.
Build resilient muscles and new purpose with every difficult stride,
And get ready to help others who need an empathetic guide.

Final Thought

Thanks for being part of my journey and in my life. I’m filled this weekend with so much gratitude for the many people who have touched my life — both those alive and those who have died.

My hope is that these words will inspire you to grieve well or to be an encouragement and a shining light to those in your life who are in the darkness of grief.