I have had severe writer’s block the past few days. My brain feels like it is swirling. Memories going in and out, fading, fighting to come forefront. It’s an emotional turmoil of sadness, anger, frustration, and emptiness. I start writing, stumble and stop. I fight to focus. I can’t.
This started a few days ago after reading Sheryl Sandberg’s profound message on Facebook. It marked the end of her 30-day religious mourning period for her husband, Dave Goldberg. Not only could I personally relate to her story, but her words touched my soul so deeply. I wanted to reach out. I wanted to say, “I know. I feel. I understand.” People say these words. They mean well. But they don’t always get it. I really do. Unfortunately, I have really been there. I have been in those same shoes.
The outpouring of heartfelt responses was astounding. But it reminded me of the difficulty of finding a community in which to share the grief. You would think it would be simple. It is not. While a variety of grief groups are available throughout the country, finding a match is challenging. Reading Sheryl Sandberg’s words was comforting. It offered a connection, kinship. Her words touched more than 635,000 people who shared it over 271,000 times. What a gift that such sensitive words regarding death, growth, and blessings have reached so many across the world. Similar to her message, I stated in earlier posts that there is a lesson in everything. I don’t know that it is always there for us to see. I think we may have to wait to find the answers. But it is there. It is waiting for us. I am growing every day. I am learning to be alone. I am learning to let go. I am learning to be so grateful for every moment. I repeat that message over and over again, but it is worth repeating. It cannot be said enough.
I went back four months to reread some of my past posts. My writing has given me my own community. Whether one person or two thousand support my effort, I am grateful. It has given me strength on my weakest days. Hugs from friends and strangers arrive in the form of “likes,” “shares,” and beautiful comments and replies. They embrace me in a way that I could never express to friends, old and new. I hope Sheryl is feeling some of that love in the realization that her message touched so many people’s hearts. It is so true when she said she “lived thirty years in thirty days.” Life changes so quickly. Death forces you to change in the blink of an eye. The emptiness, the darkness is torturous. Ready or not, you go or stay stuck. As Sheryl said, she chose “life and meaning.” So did I. Gregger would not have wanted it any other way. Some days it feels like the hardest of choices, but just like the little red engine, I say, “I think I can, I KNOW I can.” In one of my first posts I wrote, “Life has changed and it’s time to move forward. It doesn’t stop, it keeps on going, so I do too. It’s my choice. Be happy, be grateful. It’s the only choice. I have a treasure trove of memories to share. It’s how I keep the happily ever after alive.”
Friends and family called, emailed, and FB messaged to share Sheryl’s link with me. “Her writings remind me of you.” “It made me think of you and the lessons you share.” “Keep inspiring others.” If my writings can inspire one or one million people to cherish the moments, be grateful for blessings, be compassionate, kind, forgive and let go, and appreciate the simple things in life, I am grateful. I have shared Gregger’s legacy. I have grown. I am heading toward my “new normal.”
