I lost my husband of 34 years in 2021 after he lost a 114 day battle against COVID. COVID grief is its own particular kind of hell due to the nature of the pandemic, the isolation during the illness, the inability to have a funeral, and the rampant disinformation and politicization. The anger was a huge part of the grief process.

I have not sought out therapy though. I remembered what my old therapist had said some years back when I lost my sister to cancer. Grief is normal. All of it. He encouraged me to be mindful of my emotions and experiences without trying to stop them or fix them.

So when my husband died, that is what I did. What I still do. I honor my process, wherever it takes me, and I have found in not trying to control it or fix it or pathologize it, I have been relatively okay.

It comes and goes in waves, but mostly I have reached a place where I think of my husband with good memories now. I could easily be sucked back into despair if I dwelled on the horror of those last 114 days, but instead, I have found some healing in actively choosing to honor the other 56 years of his life and our 34 years of marriage. He was so much more than those last four months.