Embarrassed. What an odd word to feel in my circumstance. We were a perfectly packaged family of four. Our time together felt ideal, our routines felt right, even our photos reflected something whole. It didn’t just look good—it was good. At least, that’s how it felt between him and me, in what we shared. Our girls were young—probably too young to explain if they felt anything different—but in their play and their personalities, they seemed well-adjusted, happy.

Then he unexpectedly died. Nothing caused it—God just did it. Maybe it was written somewhere in the book of life, but we never live like that’s true. We assume tomorrow is coming. We convince ourselves death needs a reason—that it belongs to the old or the sick. I think we do that to make sense of what we can’t explain… a death with no clear cause.

God Can Be Good & But Seem Heartless

Either way, our picture is broken, cracked, forever changed. I was protected by the few people that I let around me. There was no need to let this process be bigger, because I needed what wasn’t normal to still be as close to normal as possible. I chose this, mainly because I didn’t have the one person who could help me get through it. Nobody else could help me get through it. So, I kept my everyday, as it’s always been, familiar. I didn’t need the other quasi close associates suddenly near me. That would not have been normal. Furthermore, in the subsequent days, those quasi close associates are still where they’ve always been. So why have them close during the most traumatic time of our lives? They’d just go right back to their quasi distance.

The End of an Era

This newly broken picture began to make me feel shame. I was looked at differently and began to feel embarrassed that something we lived so freely was just…over. I was cut from the team and could no longer look at peoples photos and family life because I hated them. They were not broken. I felt like their lives were now laughing at mine. Where I once shared our joy and our kids successes and fumbles, those moments are now trapped in my mind and personal photo albums, that make me angry. And no I can’t just do it again and pick up where we left off because it’s impossible. You can’t keep doing something that no longer exists. And don’t tell me to try again. Lose your spouse and see how easy it is for you. 

We were a solid unit. Now the kids and I are still experiencing a life, but it feels limited. Like God drew a boundary around what our life is allowed to be.

I’m Pissed & Embarrassed

Related Post {Invisible Grief}

I’m angry because we were proud of the life we were building with our girls. Now I struggle to even share pieces of it, because I’m constantly faced with intact families doing the same. I don’t want to see it. Parts of me wants to forget everything he and I shared as a family of 4 because here now, now that the girls are tween/teen, that prior life is gone. He would not recognize these girls today. They grew older and different, not always in a good way, and I’m having to handle it alone without his safety net. My teen is changing in ways that feel like they erase pieces of what we once knew and loved. Maybe it’s a phase. Maybe. But I’m facing a version of life I don’t recognize, and it’s challenging in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

We love our girls—we always wanted two girls. My tween is still full of that sweetness and versatility that makes my heart swell with gratitude. My teen… she’s still sweet as well, but she’s in a stage I don’t understand. We were warned about this phase, but this feels different. My husband knew his little girls as they were. He looked forward to who they would become. If he were here now, I think he’d be caught off guard.

I know one thing for sure—I need him here.

I’m Allowed To Feel What I Feel

I’m pissed because it feels like God put me on display when He took my husband, and now it feels like He’s continuing to reshape my life in ways that feel deeply unfair. Why can’t we just be… somewhat normal again?

Our perfect picture broke, and it’s actively still crumbling. God keeps making my life worse; not the fallen world, but God. He can fix things, but chooses not to. I’m aware that many other things in this world are important, and that other people are in far worse situations. However, I’m not writing about other peoples lives. It’s my life that I live and feel everyday.

I’m continually expressing gratitude, and showing the kids joy. I want their childhood to remain to be as close to what they’ve always known.

I work to help make their lives as uncomplicated as I can, so that they can launch very well prepared into their next steps in life. It gets exhausting, I’m not supposed to be doing it alone. The choice that God made has made things harder for all three of us. I’m certain, made us love life just a bit less. Even the girls should have the option to go to their dad whenever we might be at odds. If only God had considered that.

They’re Too Young To Get It

I’m tired of living the broken picture. It’s impossible to hold onto a piece of what was, especially when it seems unappreciated. I hate feeling taken for granted. I’m annoyed that they are just being kids, they don’t get it. I probably didn’t either at their age. I’m frustrated that I don’t have my co-parenting sounding board. And then I’m left depleted and alone and so angry.

The resistance is real, the push-back is real. It would be easier to take if his embrace was here for me. I worry about what’s ahead. One teen is already overwhelming—I don’t know what it will be like when the other gets there. My mom used to tell me, hold your daughters close, but not too close—they belong to God, and one day they’ll leave. What she didn’t emphasize as much is that sometimes, before they leave, they can become distant… even unkind.

I’m grateful for her wisdom, though. I understand these children aren’t ours to keep—they’re ours to raise. Some days, accepting that feels freeing. My tween, is lovable and affectionate. Without having my husband, I live for those close moments. Yet, I fear that her shift into adolescence might jolt me as well. Maybe not though. I believe that some kids can be easier.

Who To Talk To When God Chooses To Not Respond

No matter what changes we’re going through, unkindness shouldn’t be the norm. Parents are supposed to love, teach, guide—and we did that. I am doing that. But I’m also carrying the weight of two parents, trying to navigate a life that feels foreign, while still protecting some sense of normal for the child who needs it. Life didn’t just get harder—it got exhaustively harder.

Some days, I want to retreat into a closed-off world and just… stop. Not feel. Not think. Just nothing.

And that’s the truth—whether it lasts or not.

I know feelings shift. I know this may pass. Some of this is emotion, but some of it is simply life unfolding right in front of me. The way God is orchestrating this household, we may never recover.

But I’ll keep trying to protect whatever magic is left for my kids—especially for the one who still reaches for it.It’s my job to raise them, even if I can’t guarantee their happiness. And I’ll protect my own peace, too. I’ll choose myself when I need to—because he’s not here to do that for me.

Everyone should have someone who cares for them.

And maybe my teen is right…if Heaven and Hell didn’t exist, we just might respond to things differently. That’s the one thing that we agree on.

SOMETIMES WISHING THIS WIDOW LIFE WOULD END