To the girl bundled up in bed with a tear-stained pillow and a stomach ache from crying so hard, I’m so sorry you’re going through this.
At first, every morning you wake up you find yourself in a cloud of grief, in a state of questioning, wrapped in sheer sadness and piles of blankets.
Your husband cares, and he hurts too, and he may not know what to do or say. Maybe he lays beside you just so you know you’re not alone, maybe he cries with you, maybe he leaves you a note and some orange juice on your bedside table for when you wake up.
These are rough days. For some reason, the mornings are the hardest. You wake up scanning your memory for what you may have to look forward to that day, and what strikes you, in that moment when you’re not even fully awake, is sadness.
To the girl rolled up on the couch, I’m here to tell you that little by little, the sunshine will come out. At first it may be in you finding the energy to get up and get dressed, it may be in you slithering down the stairs for some coffee. It may be in the literal way that the sun peeks around the curtains- even though you don’t feel like opening them up all the way quite yet. Maybe it’s a redbird in the dead of winter coming to sit outside your window, or the fresh breeze of a springtime rain storm blowing in to remind you that hope blooms every day, even on the saddest days.
I’m also here to tell you that these days, long as they may seem, can strengthen the foundation of your marriage. It can turn that special bond into a thick cord that links the two of you, because you’ve been through something big together.
This pain can strengthen you as a person, making you brave in ways you never thought possible.
Remember that this isn’t a time to compare. This is your story. This is your hurt and these are your tears. Cry and stay in bed if you want to.
But look for the sun, dear girl, because it will come out again.