Choosing to Heal, Not Just Survive
What comes after goodbye, the final goodbye, when sacred bodies have been laid to rest and placed six feet below, unreachable? When headstones decorate the memorable spaces where loved ones’ bodies will forever be? What happens after the responsibilities of death and decisions?
What happens in the after, not theirs but ours?
The days keep coming and the world keeps spinning, but you feel stuck, nauseated by the movement and immobilized by the pain. The sun still rises and sets, but you don’t see either because you’re locked in an invisible confinement, one you never knew existed until now: grief.
Life After “They’re in a Better Place”
What happens in the after? The after “they’re gone,” the after “they’re in a better place,” the after “them,” and even worse, the after “us” when we were together? What happens when they pass on to greatness and glory and you remain, heartbroken by their absence and confused by life’s workings and, sometimes, even God’s decisions?
What comes to fill the holes created by loss, or to mend the slices carved into every piece of your body and, even more harshly, your soul? What comes to take the pain, or at least hide it? What comes to shield your newfound fears and your consistent, always-present, always-dominating anxieties?
What comes to save us in the after? What comes to fill the void?
The Answer Is You
One day you realize that the only way to heal, the only way to survive, the only way to keep stepping into new days, is to walk them yourself. You realize you can do hard things in service of something that matters. And what matters are the people who are still here, your children, your family, your friends, the ones who remain. For them, you can and will do anything. Which means you must not simply survive. You must heal. You must live again. You must step forward even when the future is now unknown and unrecognizable from the one you had built in your heart and mind.
The answer is you.
You are the only one with the power and capability to untie yourself from all of the bindings that are holding you back and holding you down. You are the only one who gets to decide how you will live from now on with both the grief and the life still left to live. Eventually, you’ll find that both are vital for success and transformation in the days to come.
You are the creator of the after. You are the architect, and you are the author, so build and write delightfully. But more importantly, make sure you’re building and writing. Don’t let the pause and immobility that come with heartbreak and loss steal the momentum of your days.
The after, your after, is what you make of it. So, when you’re ready, breathe and heal, and then make something they’d be proud of.
Reflection
Where in your own “after” have you been waiting to feel ready before you allow yourself to step forward again? What would it look like to stop simply surviving and start actively choosing to heal, even in small ways? Consider one small action this week, something that honors both your grief and the life still left to live, as a way of building toward the after that’s still yours to create.
If you have enjoyed this blog post, check out the book Legacy After Loss by Chelsea Ohlemiller. We love how she offers an honest, hope-filled companion for the after that follows fresh grief.
Chelsea Ohlemiller is the author of Now That She’s Gone and is well-known for her blog Happiness, Hope & Harsh Realities, where she examines the intersections of loss, healing, and the pursuit of meaning. Her essays have been featured in two Chicken Soup for the Soul collections, two Guideposts collections, as well as the national bestseller, So God Made a Mother. She lives in Indianapolis with her husband and three children.
