A WidowRISE Reflection
I made the decision to stop wearing my wedding ring. It was one of the hardest decisions of my life.

Not because I stopped loving him—but because I’m learning to live with the ache of a love that didn’t end when his life did.

Grief didn’t end our covenant. Death may have parted us physically, but it didn’t dissolve the love we built over decades of life, laughter, struggle, and commitment. That kind of love doesn’t just vanish. It lives on—in memory, in legacy, and in the daily choices I make to honor what we shared.

When “We” Becomes “Me”
No one prepares you for the identity shift that happens when you lose your spouse. One day, you’re part of a “we,” and the next… it’s just “me.”

But I’ve learned something sacred in this space of widowhood:
Even when the “we” is broken by loss, the love remains intact.

I still celebrate our anniversary.
I still talk to him in quiet moments.
I still consider what he would say or how he would’ve handled things.
I still love him—and that love continues to shape the woman I’m becoming.

Love Doesn’t Expire
The world often wants to put grief on a timeline.
But love—especially covenant love—doesn’t have an expiration date.

I’ve learned that it’s okay to keep loving someone who’s gone.
To miss them fiercely.
To laugh at their jokes in your memory.
To play their favorite songs in the car.
To smile when your grandkids do something that reminds you of them.
That’s not living in the past—it’s living with a legacy.

You Can Love Again… And Still Love Who You Lost
Some widows go on to love again. Others don’t. Both are holy paths.
But hear me clearly: moving forward doesn’t mean moving on.

If you choose to love again, you are not betraying your first love.
If you never do, you are no less whole.
Because love after loss is not a replacement—it’s an expansion.

You are allowed to carry both grief and joy.
Both the love that was… and whatever God has next.

Honoring the Love That Remains
My story didn’t end when Blaine’s did.
But I’ll always carry his love, his influence, his legacy.
He’s the father of my children. The man I chose.
The one who taught me what steadfast love looks like.

Even now, I love him.
Even now, I remember.
Even now, I rise.

Reflection Prompt:
• In what ways are you still loving the person you lost?
• How can you honor their legacy while still moving forward with your own?