Here we are again – another holiday season filled with traditions, big family gatherings and reminders of who isn’t here to make the stuffing or hang the lights. The first Christmas after Brady’s passing, my neighbor asked me if I would be decorating the house to which I quickly told her no -- that had always been Brady’s job — swearing and all.

For those carrying the weight of loss, the holidays can feel like an endless series of reminders of who isn’t there, a season where joy and celebration seem to stand in contrast to your grief. Grieving isn’t something you simply “get through” or move past, even if well-meaning people sometimes say it that way.

Moving through the fog of grief is a process like no other. There is no straight line through to the other side, whatever the other side is. Despite a plethora of resources for grief support, finding the right fit is critical and can require a mindset like Goldilocks – you may have to try several before you find one that is just right.

No one escapes loss or grief. At some point in everyone’s life, we are forced to endure sorrow. Grief is universal, but it is also an individual experience. When I first announced this project, I was overwhelmed by the massive support from friends as well as strangers – all understanding the spirit behind this initiative.

They were two friends of nearly three decades, both widowed within three years of each other. As they chatted, one woman shared that now, three years after her husband’s death, she felt as if she was beginning to heal. She credited her progress on her participation in a regular group discussion with other widowed men and women.

It’s been nearly 13 years since his wife, Joan, passed away shortly after giving birth to their second child, and today he is working to restart his career and personal life. Todd says he needs to find a new purpose now that his children are doing well in school and moving ahead.

Professional writer Hannah Sentenach brings comfort to the grieving through her obituary writing.

Another anniversary approaches without Brady.

Patti was a petite, 60ish woman from Texas, who was clearly enjoying chatting with others in the crowd around her as she and her daughter waited near the Olympic Marathon Trials start line in Orlando. Her son was running to qualify for Team USA and the chance to compete in the 2024 summer Olympics in Paris. Here’s a story about the healing power of tattoos.

People receive and process information differently, most especially when they have been smacked down by grief and the feeling that your world has collapsed. Every library or bookstore in the country is stocked with books about dealing with loss.

Being at a loss for words is a thing; especially when your spouse has passed away. Notice I use the phrase “passed away,” a soft and comforting term for describing someone’s death. New Chapters was inspired by so many issues that I experienced and discovered after losing my husband (another soft term), including how people speak to me. As a former journalist, I pay more attention than most to what and how words are used. And as I continue to write this new chapter of life without Brady – my constant companion for nearly 40 years --what people say to me has greater impact than ever before.

Grief is an initiation into the dark side of being human and it requires courage. So says licensed mental health therapist Emily Green who describes grief as an ongoing negotiation with oneself about how to feel, what to think and how to act.

As my husband, Brady, languished in the hospital during the final days of his life, I looked for something - anything - that would perk up his spirits. He wasn’t communicating and was disconnected from me. We didn’t share the same taste in music, but when I turned one of my playlists, he immediately perked up, gently took my phone and held it to his chest, smiled and shifted to a state of calm.