The first 100 days... <3

They say it takes about three months for reality to start setting in after you lose a loved one. These were my first 100 days....

The first few weeks began with getting through a couple of hours at a time. I could maybe manage one administrative task and then I felt like I needed to get home. Maybe I wanted to get home to see if Bernard was miraculously there and I had just been in a bad dream all this time. Or maybe I wanted to get home because home had always been my safe place since I was a little girl. But now it was an empty space without my husband. There was a lot of confusion, shock and heartache all breaking upon me like continuous waves crashing on the shore.

I didn't want to imagine doing life without my husband, my best friend, my person. Every night at 6:30pm, I would wait for him to come home, walk through our front door to join me for dinner at our dining room table - a tradition we had, to ensure we connected, prayed and talked on a daily basis. But there was no sign of him, and every night my heart broke again. My mind then decided he was just on an extended holiday, and that he would be home soon. Although a ridiculous thought, these are the ways your mind tries to protect you from accepting the raw reality and heartache of the situation... it denies the truth in this early stage of grief (#denial).

My family, church family and many other friends were incredible during this time. They supported me daily with food, gifts, vouchers, messages, calls. They made sure I was fed, bathed and had a good cup of tea at all times (tea makes everything seem like it will be okay, to me anyways!).

In the bible, there is a story about Lazarus (John 11:1-44) who was very sickly and had died. However, four days after he had passed, Jesus went to his tomb and the bible reads as follows:

(43) When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” (44) The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”

I had such faith that I could pray for what I called my "Lazarus miracle", for my husband to wake up and come back to me. I took communion every night and prayed, that Jesus would answer just this one prayer for me (#bargaining). On 14th December I went to view his body and prayed over him. I prayed that if it was God's will, He would let Bernard wake up and come home with me - just as Jesus had commanded Lazarus to wake from the dead. I know that God is a God of miracles and that anything is possible through Him, but this wasn't in God's will. Bernard had gone to be with Him and I had to slowly learn to start accepting that.

On15th December, with an absolutely broken heart, I bid my darling husband farewell from this earth at his funeral. We had always discussed to wear white at one another's funeral, and so I did. To celebrate his life and our time together here on earth. To celebrate him and the person he was. To celebrate knowing he is now with Jesus, surrounded by perfect love, at peace and so happy.

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One of the fears I had at the back of my mind was that the multitude of people who rallied around me during December would eventually go back to their daily lives and schedules and I would still be in a world that seemed to stand still in time. And that's exactly what happened. Don't get me wrong, I am ever so grateful and blessed to have so many people who showed up, who loved me and stayed by my side during the most devastating time of my life. They carried me through a time where I wasn't sure which way to turn, and just because my world was standing still, I couldn't expect everyone else's to. I often felt like I was in one of those movies where everything around me was passing me by on a dark highway, unable to move.... People were in their daily routines, rushing to work, sitting around a dinner table together, falling pregnant, getting engaged and married, families planning holidays, yet my world had come to a grinding halt and I was just...standing....still...in time.

I have re-played certain scenarios over and over again in my mind to see whether I could have changed the outcome of this tragedy. To try and see if I had missed a sign of depression or dark thoughts in my husband. But Bernard was such a happy-go-lucky man. No-one saw this coming, it was a shock to all who knew him. There was no message, no note, no nothing to help me understand better what went through his mind during that time and what pushed him so far over the edge. For a little while, I felt so guilty as a wife to have allowed this to happen, to not have been able to save him. I blamed myself for him taking his life. I wish I could go back and change it all but I have come to understand and acknowledge that nothing could have stopped him in that moment and that it was a choice he made on his own. Nothing that I did or didn't do. It's still incredibly hard some days to process though. Speaking to my trauma counselor, I have a better understanding of how the mind works in this type of situation and what may have occurred. One's body can react in three different ways to a situation: flight, fight or freeze. Bernard, with the stress of the business and finances, may have in that moment just frozen. With this reaction, your system tends to "shut down" and there is no room for logical thinking or rebooting. Like a computer that freezes, there is no response, and it tends to just crash in that moment.

I have felt #angry in a way - at life, at God and at the situation, but never at Bernard. I don't like this chapter in my life. I didn't sign up for it. It's heartbreaking, it hurts so much, it's incredibly lonely. No-one can replace the role he played in my life, that special bond you have with your person. People can visit, love you and be there for you but it's not the same as having him by my side.

It's beautiful how your mind, body and soul are so interlinked and protect each other. I have never felt any anger towards Bernard during this time and that's because subconsciously I want to preserve the goodness of him. The beautiful soul I met and fell in love with. The man I married and loved with my whole heart. To me, he made a mistake and so I can graciously forgive him and just love him until I see him again.

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So, what have my first 100 days looked like? The raw reality is, it hasn't been easy. It's been incredibly difficult. It feels as though I have lost Bernard a couple of days ago, but also ten years ago. It's like a time warp. I have wondered many a time what my life will look like now without him and how I carry on. I haven't been able to open his bedroom cupboard for four months since his passing because holding onto his things just as they are, in some crazy way, means I still get to have him close to me. I have felt the overwhelming fear of forgetting what he looks like, what he sounds like, his laugh, his smile. I never want to lose the memory of him. It's the songs on the radio that we use to love singing to together that brings a smile to my face, but tears to my eyes. It's picking up my phone to message him, and stopping dead in my tracks as the sadness washes over me knowing that I can no longer do that. It's the gaping hole in your life in a way - the missing of that one person, your best friend, that person you can just be unashamedly yourself with. I had to "celebrate" our first wedding anniversary without him in the same week he passed. I had to "celebrate" Christmas without him a couple weeks later, and then see in the new year without him a couple weeks after that. It felt as if I was being knocked by tidal waves again and again and again during December and I wasn't able to catch my breath.

The sting of his death is still very raw at times. In the quiet of the night, the tears flow. When I sit down with my emotions, the

heartache is sometimes unbearable and I just want to go back to 5th December and change the course of life. I go to sleep every night, praying that he will visit me in my dreams. It has been an incredibly hard road to walk. I've needed to put boundaries in place to protect my space, energy and sanity as I walk through this trauma and sometimes people don't understand that. I have also found ways to celebrate and remember Bernard by. I got a tattoo in remembrance of him and went paragliding with a birthday voucher that he never got to use.

#Grief is a funny thing. For me as a Project Manager, I have been searching for a way to put a timeline to it, to get my task list out and check off what I need to do to get through this by X date. Apply some sort of formula. But there is no such thing. There is no short cut around it. You have to walk through grief head on, as scary as it may be. You need to mourn your loss. Mourn the loss of your special person, mourn the loss of your dreams you had together, mourn their presence in your life. It's processing and feeling those emotions. For me, it has been so helpful to journal as it allows me to face what I am feeling and slowly but surely come to terms with my new reality. I am by no means at a place of full acceptance. However, the sting is no longer every few hours, but more every few days. Slowly, I feel I am on a road to healing. Everyone's journey is their own, and that's what makes it beautiful. No-one can take your journey away from you. But it is good to walk your journey with all it's ups, downs, corners and plunges...because I know the view at the top of the mountain will be beautiful. Filled with grace, joy, light and wholeness once again.

At the beginning of last year God laid something deeply in my heart. He told me that if I keep my eyes firmly fixed on Jesus, that no matter what may come my way in life - the frustrations, the anger, the disappointments, the confusion, even the mundane in life... I will not be shaken. He is above it all. He is my King, my Lord and Saviour and my Father. He holds me in the palm of His hand and protects me beneath His wings. And so although my heart is still breaking, tears still flow from my eyes, everything within me misses my darling husband; I have a deep inner peace that everything is going to be okay because God is with me through this. This is my season in life, for now. A time to mourn, a time to cry. A time to walk through the valley. But I fear not, for I know my God is with me and His rod and staff comfort me (Psalm 23). I feel Jesus walking next to me in this valley, and I know He will never leave me nor forsake me (Deuteronomy 31:8). You see, my faith has been my anchor in this storm and it will continue to be all the days of my life. God is a good Father and I can testify wholeheartedly to that.

I feel Bernard around me, cheering me on... He is in the sunsets, in the cloud formations, in the early morning fresh air that comes in, when I go to sleep at night. I know that everything will be okay, and one day, when it is my time, Jesus will teach me to dance again with a full heart.

Forever and always, I will love you xxx

∞💓

Helpful notes:

• Pray! Jesus is the Prince of Peace and during a time like this, you need that more than anything. A peace that transcends all understanding (Philippians 4:6).

• Seek a trauma counselor to help you process such a life changing event in your life. Don't suppress your emotions and feelings. They deserve the attention they require in order to work through your grief in a healthy way.

• Ensure you have a community around you that love you and will check in on you.

• Watch for signs of depression. Grief and depression tick a lot of the same boxes, but are very different. Let a counselor guide you here.

Helpful links:

• #WPSD - World Prevention Suicide Day is commemorated on 10th September every year to promote worldwide commitment and action to prevent suicides. A shocking statistic is that almost 3000 people commit suicide daily. That's one person every 40seconds!!

• #Griefshare - https://www.griefshare.org