I believe in asking for miracles, but my relationship with Jesus Christ no longer depends on getting those miracles in the way I want.
My husband, Shawn, died in a car accident in 2019. I didn’t get the miracle of him surviving the accident, but I did get the people who helped carry me, the strength to raise my kids, and deeper relationships with others. And I got the miracle of being happy again.
That happiness was tested when I was diagnosed with breast cancer three years after Shawn’s death.
Through it all, I’ve learned the key word is “and” in a lot of those feelings. I can be unhappy that I have to go to treatment for my cancer, and I can be super happy in my life. And I can miss Shawn.
It’s a realization I’ve tried to share. I have a young friend who is a new widow. Early on, I told her, “It’ll take time, but I’m really happy, and you can get there, too.” She’s held onto that, because after losing a spouse, you’re so heartbroken that you can’t even imagine being happy again.
But I’m not pretending. I’m not trying to just make the best of a terrible situation; I really love my life now.
Reaching that point took time. Getting professional help can be a big part of healing, and I think God is totally OK with that. You need to take advantage of any tools that work for you. There are good podcasts; there’s medication; there’s counseling.
But even with those tools, being happy again doesn’t mean everything is easy. For example, I’ve had a hard time going to the temple since Shawn died. It’s a really emotional, heavy thing for me. When I was visiting my kids recently, we went to the temple and did a few initiatories, and that was all I could do.
After some thought and talking with people, I realized I can’t fail at temple worship if I’m trying—even if that means just walking around the temple grounds. I’m trying to do the things that Heavenly Father wants and that I know are good for me, but it might not look the way I used to think it should.
Giving myself grace has been helpful in navigating big milestones. This year would’ve been our 30th wedding anniversary. Shawn died when we had been married for 22.99 years, about a week or two away from our anniversary. I even put 22.99 in his obituary because, dang it, I wanted that .99 in there.
I’ve thought a lot about a saying that Shawn had at work: “What would I do if I wasn’t afraid?”
Before Shawn died, I traveled with him. Very few trips did I do without him. Initially, it was scary to do anything after he died; my emotions could come out so easily.
But I had a healing experience during a trip with our daughter, Addy. She recently graduated from Brigham Young University, so to celebrate, she and I went to Europe. The trip also fell over my 30th anniversary with Shawn.
Addy and I took a train from Paris to Giverny to visit Claude Monet’s gardens. I love gardens, and we went in May when everything was in big bloom. It was all misty, and the ponds had lilies in them.
At that moment, I realized, “I’ve done it; I’ve gotten to where I can do these scary things without Shawn.”
We’d taken a plane over there; we’d taken trains to many different towns. And now, I was in these beautiful gardens, living unafraid. With the Lord sustaining me, I’ve made new dreams and worked to fulfill them. My life looks totally different now than I thought it would. I miss Shawn, and at the same time, I can say that I’m super happy.
I am so grateful the Lord has helped me build a life I love.
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