We’re getting close to the three year mark. It’s a mere nine days away.

Anniversaries are always there in the back of your mind after you lose someone. Sometimes they loom large and other times they simply lurk in the corners, but they are always there somewhere, waiting to be recognized.

This year has been a whirlwind one. Three kids in high school, including a senior, and one in middle school kept me busy. Add in my new job and just the everyday things of life, and it’s been a very full year. To be honest, I barely had time to grieve at all once school started. There was just too much to do.

The exception was Tuesday nights, January through March. On those nights, a wister (widow + sister) and I trekked it to the nearest town with a Taco Bell and attended Grief Share meetings. Think group therapy but specifically for those dealing with loss. On any given Tuesday night there would be 10-15 of us around some tables in a room off a church gym, watching videos and talking through our grief journeys. Not all of us were widows, but some where. Others had lost parents, children or other loved ones. As different as our experiences were, we found common ground in our loss and in our faith.

The meetings were meaningful and helpful in processing my feelings. I recommend it if you’re going through a loss. But for me, the most important and meaningful part of those Tuesday nights was the time on the road with my wister. She’s a little younger than me and her loss is a little more recent, but we “get” each other on a level that’s just not there with other people. I like to think that I was able to be there for her in ways I needed someone to be there for me when my widowhood journey was just beginning.

There have been other wisters to reach out to this year as well. Some older than me, some younger. Some I see on a daily basis and some strangers with only mutual acquaintances to introduce us. But each time, I have met a newly widowed woman, I try to pass on what I’ve learned. I’ve tried to bring beauty from ashes and glorify God in the process.

We’re moving forward in all the big ways. My oldest graduated high school in May and his sister will follow next year. The little boys aren’t so little anymore, either. The middle son is hitting the weight room most every day and they’re both looking forward to football in the fall. The youngest will officially be old enough for school sports.

We traveled very little this year, with only a few of us making it to St Louis for Spring Break. This picture is me there, after losing a second fingernail to a Bird scooter. Let’s just say there’s a story there, but it’s one best told in person, so you’ll just have to ask me about it next time you see me.

For now, just know that we’re making it. Moving forward. Sometimes in great leaps and others one inch at a time. There are still sleepless nights where I sob into my pillow, days and events where we feel Vance’s absence more than others, and times when things catch us off guard and the tears just come. Those are fewer than they used to be and we are navigating normal as best we can.