Sundays have become my least favorite day. My boyfriend, Greg, was in a terrible motorcycle accident on Sunday, May 25. After two very long, long weeks in the ICU, he passed away on Sunday, June 8. Sundays are now the day to remember, the day to mark how much time has passed, the day to feel every feeling there is to feel in this journey of grief.
It was suggested to me by someone that I don’t have the right to grieve as I do, that he and I weren’t together long enough to warrant the depth of the loss that I feel. They even suggested that Greg never loved me.
In truth, we were together just under 10 months, and I have wondered myself at the grief I have felt, if it was justified or right or whatever. But what I know is that no one but Greg and I were there in our private moments. No one but Greg and I were there in those moments to experience the love, the laughter, the friendship, the companionship, the dreams of a future. And anyone who was there to bear witness to all of the public moments, the people who could really see us – well, they knew just what we meant to each other. It was written all over our faces what we felt for each other, and no one can ever take that away.
It’s been eight weeks since Greg was last in our home, and six weeks since he took his final breath. In these weeks, I have felt split in two and learned to walk through each day as two halves of a person – someone clinging to each past phone call, each text, each late night conversation, each hug, each date night, each look, each memory, each ordinary day around our home; and also as someone desperate to continue in a forward motion, learning to navigate a world without a person I thought I would get to live with and love for years to come.
Sundays are my least favorite day, but I also know the depth of pain I feel on them makes me also know how deeply I loved in all the days before the first worst Sunday. I guess that’s something to be grateful for.
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A follow up note: I have no words to express my appreciation for the people who continue to show up for me. Life has continued on for everyone (as it tends to do), and yet some of you have taken the time to still check in – to mail a card or send a text or give a hug. Grief is a lonely journey, but some of you have made it just a little easier.
Until Next Time,
Jeri Austin
A Growth Mindset 
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