Something Died Inside of Me That Day

In Nov 2024, the world as I knew it ended. Since my wife went to be with Jesus, my life has changed. It is quieter now – centred around the four walls of my home, the rhythmic tapping of keys on this blog, and the steady, four-legged companionship of my dog, Ben.

I am not an expert on “getting over it.” I am still very much in the middle of it. But in the silence of this house, I’ve realized that much of the advice given to those in sorrow is focused on “fixing” what cannot be fixed. We are often treated like broken machines that need to be recalibrated to a “normal” that no longer exists. I am blessed to have friends who are patient and kind to me.

I am Here to Help

Let me say this. I am a person in grief, but I am also a person who wants to help.

I have spent the last 18 months observing the anatomy of loss from the inside. I’ve felt the pressure to rush, the sting of being dismissed, and the exhaustion of trying to be the man I used to be. I’ve realized we need a different language for this journey – one that doesn’t demand we “recover,” but allows us to integrate our loss into a life that is still worth living.

How I Hope to Help

Over the next four posts, I want to share the four pillars that have kept me upright:

1. Identity: Why you are changed, not broken.
2. Pace: Why “normal” is a myth we need to stop chasing.
3. Presence: How to acknowledge pain without being consumed by it.
4. Movement: The quiet, transformative power of the baby step.

If you are carrying a heavy heart, or if you are standing beside someone who is, this series is for you. We are not looking for an exit. We are looking for the strength to remain.

I am still here. You are still here. Let’s figure out what that means together.