Navigating Transitions after Loss

Posted on 1/15/2026 by Becky Lee

Life changes and new normals. Histories and futures. Habits and adaptations. The old and the new… Everyone goes through them in one way or another, at one time or another. No escaping it. It is life and it is death. But IMHO, more importantly, how our transition goes afterward is determined by how we choose it to be. And perhaps one of the biggest challenges we face while trying to find our way forward is how to help those who love us know how we’re doing!

When my wife died we had been together for 42 years. That’s 2/3 of my entire life! My story is our story. My experiences were our experiences, for the most part. Who I am reflects much of who we were! Undeniably, her departure left a huge void in my life. Nothing would ever be the same. Two became one, like it did when we were married, but yet not at all like that. There were schedule changes, chore changes, decisions to make solo, and more questions for myself than I had prepared for to date. We had never imagined we would be able to marry but it happened. So then I just thought I’d be married forever. We knew that it was more likely that she would pass away before I did but the first time I realized that I wasn’t married anymore was a stunner. Suddenly I was a widow. I didn’t even know what the hell that looked like.

About a month before her passing, Di asked me, “When something happens to me will you find someone else?” Now just what the hell do you say to that? I asked her if there was anything in particular that made her think about that. She paused and said, “I only want you to be the happiest you can be. You haven’t been able to do all the things that we wanted to do or that you wanted to do when you retired. And I don’t want you to think you have to stay alone when I’m gone. I just want you to live your best life.” So with that context in place I responded that yes, there were things that I had wanted to do when I retired, and there were things that we had planned that I still wanted to do. And, as for the “would I find someone else” part of that scenario, I replied that I didn’t have a magic ball and didn’t know if, or when, I might be presented with that consideration. But I did continue that thread. I said that I was eternally thankful for the life that we had had, the easy and the hard times, the good and the bad times. And if I found myself presented with an opportunity to share love in a meaningful way I would be discerning but I would not run away from it. I just couldn’t see where anything was going at that point so I had never thought about all of that before.

I am truly blessed to have the most amazing families (yes, I said families, plural, intentionally) and friends! I feel so incredibly loved. I do wish that everyone could know how amazing it feels! They have celebrated life’s joys with me and they have held my hand when it was hard! I am forever grateful for them all!

So, the point of this epistle was to speak to what I think often becomes the biggest challenge during times of transition- being grateful for love and support, while letting those who love us know how we’re doing. I meant it when I said that what happens to us after loss is up to us. We choose how to spend what is left of our time on this earth. We choose life or we choose death (essentially). We write the script for our next adventure and we write the ending for our life story. I chose life. And, in my mind, to do otherwise doesn’t honor the life I’ve had and it certainly doesn’t give back for the love and support I have been given. I’ve said before that when Di got her wings and left this earth she also gave me mine, to live, truly and fully. That’s just what I’m trying to do.

I recently spent Thanksgiving with one of my nieces (in-law) and her family. We hadn’t seen them in a few years and this was the first time I had been with them since Di passed away. As always, friends and family expressed lots of love and support for me making the trip in all the right ways. But in almost every case, part of the conversation included things like “I know this was so hard. I can’t imagine how hard that was. I know you miss her so much. Was it too hard?”, and the like. I didn’t feel bad about their questions or comments, and I’m so thankful for the love and care that I get from everybody who loves me. But I was reminded of the challenge of making sure people know how you are actually doing so that they aren’t put in a position of trying to be supportive but, because they don’t have clarity, may find it awkward and not know what to say. There is always the chance that some people work under the assumption that “how YOU are doing” is just the same as how they think that “THEY would be doing.” We all have our own threshold for dealing with loss. No judgement, just an acknowledgement. That being said, part of the challenge includes feeling a need to justify my response because my answer might seem cold to some. What I wanted (and tried) to say was “It was absolutely not hard or sad! It was joyful and fun. She WAS there. We brought her there. We spoke her name, told stories, and laughed.” I’ve had an amazing life. It does not make me sad to remember. My memories make me smile. So I think I need to replace the use of “sad”, as an emotion to describe such occasions, and rephrase them as reminiscent. Being reminiscent reflects the value that we place on our experiences. Being reminiscent shares my appreciation for the time. That time was full of love and sharing. It warms my heart, gives me strength, gives me energy, and makes me smile. I’m good at sharing love. That didn’t end or change. I still have plenty of love to share. There are new stories to write and still old stories to tell. I’m okay with that! I hope I can help other people be okay with that as well.

There’s no book on how to make major life transitions. There’s no secret recipe for how to do it best. We do what we can, as we can. We find our way. By choosing life we don’t and can’t live in the past. We look to the future. We make plans. We look for opportunities to not take time for granted. We don’t forget the past. We don’t regret the past. We don’t discount its contributions to bringing us to where we are today. We embrace those contributions, be thankful for them, and talk about them. We share our stories and we honor the lives who have gone before us. We aren’t afraid to include them in our conversations, and “bring’em along” for new adventures. I’m sure that I will always miss and love Di. Two-thirds of my life doesn’t disappear or become negated just because that time is no longer. But I choose to live life the way that we both had envisioned. A life that embraces opportunities, experiences, and relationships that are good for my soul, give me strength and energy, and reflect that I am worthy and enough. Unapologetically, I want to live my best life. I’m not perfect. I’ll fuck it up sometimes for sure. But I will try to do no harm to others while loving myself.

But I will love myself.

Becky Lee