10 years without Steve: My journey through life and grief in the decade since my husband died

From Saturday's Briefing:

It's been 10 years since my husband took his final breath. I have lived with, wrestled with and made tentative peace with grief ever since.

My journey through a decade of grief is unlike anyone else's because every single path is unique. There is no lockstep through stages. There is no timeline, no guarantee of expiration.

In these years without Steve, I have prayed with and prayed for friends and acquaintances on their own grief journeys. I've learned to offer advice only when asked, and even then I tread lightly, hesitant to intrude on the sacred process of continuing life with a shattered heart.

Yet, there is value in listening to one another's stories, in making connections, in realizing that we are bound together because we feel pain as deeply as we love. With that in mind, these are some of my truths about grief.

The tug of loss never fully disappears. In the first few months after Steve's death, his absence was the first thing I thought of when I woke up and the last thing I remembered as I fell asleep. Our loss doesn't consume me now, but it never goes away.

When our son graduated from high school this past June, I of course wished that Steve had been sitting next to me in the arena, but I didn't dwell on his absence. I was thankful for the family members and friends who were there, for the people who have helped to sustain us.

A few weeks later, though, the morning before Cooper's college orientation, I broke down in the middle of the hotel dining room. There were matched sets of moms and dads at every other table, but at mine there was only a mom with tears in her oatmeal. That wave of grief came out of nowhere, reminding me of its fickle ways.

You can curate your own healthy ways to cope. Cooper, Katie and I find solace by honoring Steve in small, everyday ways. I share Steve stories and photos. We listen to his music and watch his favorite movies.

Cooper inherited Steve's quick wit and sarcasm. Katie inherited his gift of storytelling. They may not remember the tenor and tone of his voice, but they often sound just like him, with familiar phrases and observations.

We go all out to remember him on Nov. 4. For eight years now, we've celebrated Steve's birthday by encouraging acts of kindness in his honor. With the help of enthusiastic friends and social media, our annual tribute to Steve and the power of kindness has spread around the world.

Give yourself credit for what you've built. No one asks for trauma or tragedy, yet it finds us all. The process of living through the associated grief creates all kinds of character-building opportunities.

We've gained perspective because living with loss clarifies the gift of each new day and helps to prioritize problems.

We've developed empathy for families facing a cancer diagnosis or unexpected death. For parents who lose children and children who lose parents. For single moms and single dads. For children in crisis. We're reminded that many struggles are hidden or unnamed and that everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and grace.

We've built layers of resiliency. We have failed one another and asked for forgiveness. We have created huge messes (the great bathroom flood of 2011 comes to mind) and then tamed the chaos. We have cobbled together basic home repair skills. We have been lost but always find our way home.

Life continues. We've discovered new music, authors, movies and restaurants. We've attended weddings and memorial services. We've cuddled newborns. We've traveled across the country and even ventured overseas.

Katie learned to play the violin and then the oboe. Cooper earned the rank of Eagle Scout.

I earned a teaching certificate and now teach middle-school students.

We left our longtime church and found a new congregation closer to home.

Our circle of friends is wider. Our well of memories is deeper. Our passion for life continues. Steve has been gone for 10 years, but I know that he would totally approve.

Tyra Damm is a Briefing columnist. She can be reached at tyradamm@gmail.com.

Cooper, Steve and Katie in October 2005

Katie and Cooper on Nov. 4, 2018, delivering flowers and pumpkin bread to friends in memory of Steve's 50th birthday.