Life After Death

It seems like many people think they know me. They see this extroverted crazy girl, so full of life, and think “She made it, she survived the unthinkable”. And maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m brave and amazing not just for surviving but also for thriving after my husband died at the age of twenty-seven. Or maybe… I’m just really good at pretending. So good that sometimes I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. But the truth is, there are many days when all I want to do is to crawl into my bed and never come out.

Since Andrew died, I just want to stop... Stop living, stop working, stop paying bills, stop traveling, stop walking my dogs, just stop.

Before he died, there was not a bill that wasn’t paid. I was on top of everything. I lived to work. To achieve. To get a house and do all the things you’re supposed to do to be a “successful” adult. I never strived to be my own boss like some people do. I just wanted a steady paycheck for the rest of my life. I got a job in the company I liked and I planned to work there as long as I could. I complained I didn’t have the time to write but it would never cross my mind to become a full-time writer. I was responsible. I was reliable. I went to all the family gatherings, birthday parties, and celebrations my husband was so disinterested in. Our gifts were always the most thoughtful ones. I had it all together. And thanks to me - we had it all together.

Today the most trivial things make me feel overwhelmed and exhausted. There was a time around Andrew’s death date when I didn’t go to the mailbox for many weeks because I was too anxious about it (there was no specific reason, I was just struggling). It was around the time when I refused to purchase car insurance after spending a year fighting for the insurance money from Andrew’s crash and my license almost got suspended. The simplest paperwork could drive me to hours of tears and anxiety.

To be fair, I never really had the opportunity to stay in bed and cry all day. That’s possibly part of the issue. I went straight back to work. I took two weeks off to grieve my husband. No one ever told me it was okay to do that for months like I know some people do. My company never offered me an extended paid leave or anything like that. So I started working and just because I didn’t cry at every Zoom meeting, people assumed I was fine. They had no idea. Until I couldn’t take it anymore and I quit a year later.

I opened up a bookstore in a small town in Virginia (my husband’s hometown) because I thought it would help me to honor Andrew. Somehow it did, and somehow it made things even worse. I had no idea what I was doing but I had to do something. Never mind I never wanted to live there at all, I still bought a condo and signed a three-year lease for the bookstore. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe a sense of stability? At that time it seemed to make sense. I was desperately looking for anything that would connect me to Andrew. I think I was still in shock. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m not sure if I’ll ever think clearly again, to be honest. Andrew went to work and never came back. I didn’t expect him to die and I assume he never expected to die so young either. Even today, it simply doesn’t make sense.

We all think it happens but it won’t happen to us. Well, it did happen to us. It happened to me. I am a 27-year-old widow and while I’d love to think that it doesn’t define me, it most certainly does. Because every crazy decision I’ve made within the last year was based on one of those two things - life is short and I fucking miss my husband.

I started believing whatever we do with our precious little lives doesn’t really matter. We will all die at some point, we might as well have fun with it. I no longer plan for kids or the retirement. I have no long-term goals. I just live my life, day by day.

I’m moving forward. That’s the proper term amongst us, grievers. We don’t say we move on, we move forward. To be honest, I don’t see any difference. It’s all the same. We keep living without our loved ones and that’s about it. We’re doing our best. What else can we do? The world doesn’t wait for us. It keeps going. The bills need to be paid, and the kids or pets need to be taken care of. So we keep moving… on, forward, backward, no one really cares where we’re going, as long as we don’t stay in our beds forever - because that would be way too dramatic, wouldn’t it?

What happens to the grievers when the despair passes and everyone else goes back to their old normal? I’ll tell you one thing for sure - we don’t go back. We don’t get just to keep going like nothing ever happened. Like it was just another tragedy in this tragic world. Death is no different than birth. Creating a life changes you forever just as losing one.

This is what my Life After Death looks like.

*** Life After Death is a book that is currently released chapter by chapter every week on drewsbookstore.com. It will be fully published later this year. All support is greatly appreciated! ***