u/One_Gizmo

My husband unexpectedly died last year at age 47 from an undiagnosed cardiovascular disease. We shared 15 wonderful years together. He leaves behind me and our three young kids. He was the most loving, kind, joyful, easygoing yet hardworking, and thoughtful man I had ever met in my life. He rarely got angry and when he did, he was gentle with his words. He let me be whoever I wanted to be and loved me fully, whatever version of myself I was working on. While working full-time, he always said I had the hardest job as a homeschool mom who stayed with the kids even though he himself had quite a demanding career. Even with an intense work and travel schedule, he insisted on carrying half of the household and childcare chores as a way to show me appreciation. He didn't want to decompress much after work. He wanted to squeeze out every minute of time he could spend with the kids and me. When traveling, he would call/video/text us whenever he had a free moment. We knew we were his heart. At home, he would help constantly without being asked. My kids have learned this from him. He truly was my best friend and partner in life.

Why do the good have to die so young? He was such a good person. He deserved to live a long life. I grieve how he worked so hard and gave so much love to me and our kids, and wasn't able to live long enough to see the fruits of his efforts. I grieve all the milestones he will miss. I miss all the things we would dream about that will never happen--like being like that cute old couple we would see holding hands and walking around the neighborhood.

I keep myself from falling apart by staying focused on the goals we shared & the hopes we had for our kids. I will make sure I do all I can to finish what we started, God-willing. His life was not in vain. This season of grief has been one of doing everything I can to keep as much of their lives unchanged from before he died--predictable routines, same extracurriculars, same chores, same friends, etc. That predictability has actually helped with our grief. It ironically gave us space to grieve him fully.

I talk about him everyday with the kids. Reminding them of memories, sharing funny stories, giving them reminders of how they are each so much like their dad. For the first few months, they didn't talk about him much. It is only in the last couple months that they have begun to bring him up in casual conversation almost everyday--such as, "You guys, remember when Dad made us scrambled eggs with eggs that went bad and how gross it was?? It was disgusting!" And everyone would laugh. Seeing that they remember so much is heartwarming. They even bring up memories that I had forgotten.

A couple decades ago, I was divorced without kids before meeting him. I will not speak for everyone, but I found from my own experience that a divorce from a bad relationship was more traumatizing and destabilizing than losing a spouse to death after a loving and happy marriage. With a divorce, I had psychological injuries to heal and had to deal with social rejection from stigmas associated with divorcees. It was messy and our shared life, friends, assets all had to be split. I had a chip on my shoulder and knew there was always a chance I might run into him unexpectedly.

With my husband's death, the pain is completely different. I am shattered at unexpected moments when I remember how good we had it, and knowing the kids and I have to keep moving forward without him here with us. There is the abject confusion of how someone who appeared so healthy and full of joyful light could be here one day, and gone the next. Just, poof.

We have received a lot of warmth and support from our social circles, and the life we built together remains intact as "our" life, not split his/hers. The pain is from knowing he is supposed to be here, and is deeply wanted here, but will never be here again. We are rebuilding a life knowing that the life we had with him alive was better than any version I can possibly imagine going forward.

My husband unexpectedly died last year at age 47 from an undiagnosed cardiovascular disease. We shared 15 wonderful years together. He leaves behind me and our three young kids. He was the most loving, kind, joyful, easygoing yet hardworking, and thoughtful man I had ever met in my life. He rarely got angry and when he did, he was gentle with his words. He let me be whoever I wanted to be and loved me fully, whatever version of myself I was working on. While working full-time, he always said I had the hardest job as a homeschool mom who stayed with the kids even though he himself had quite a demanding career. Even with an intense work and travel schedule, he insisted on carrying half of the household and childcare chores as a way to show me appreciation. He didn't want to decompress much after work. He wanted to squeeze out every minute of time he could spend with the kids and me. When traveling, he would call/video/text us whenever he had a free moment. We knew we were his heart. At home, he would help constantly without being asked. My kids have learned this from him. He truly was my best friend and partner in life.

Why do the good have to die so young? He was such a good person. He deserved to live a long life. I grieve how he worked so hard and gave so much love to me and our kids, and wasn't able to live long enough to see the fruits of his efforts. I grieve all the milestones he will miss. I miss all the things we would dream about that will never happen--like being like that cute old couple we would see holding hands and walking around the neighborhood.

I keep myself from falling apart by staying focused on the goals we shared & the hopes we had for our kids. I will make sure I do all I can to finish what we started, God-willing. His life was not in vain. This season of grief has been one of doing everything I can to keep as much of their lives unchanged from before he died--predictable routines, same extracurriculars, same chores, same friends, etc. That predictability has actually helped with our grief. It ironically gave us space to grieve him fully.

I talk about him everyday with the kids. Reminding them of memories, sharing funny stories, giving them reminders of how they are each so much like their dad. For the first few months, they didn't talk about him much. It is only in the last couple months that they have begun to bring him up in casual conversation almost everyday--such as, "You guys, remember when Dad made us scrambled eggs with eggs that went bad and how gross it was?? It was disgusting!" And everyone would laugh. Seeing that they remember so much is heartwarming. They even bring up memories that I had forgotten.

A couple decades ago, I was divorced without kids before meeting him. I will not speak for everyone, but I found from my own experience that a divorce from a bad relationship was more traumatizing and destabilizing than losing a spouse to death after a loving and happy marriage. With a divorce, I had psychological injuries to heal and had to deal with social rejection from stigmas associated with divorcees. It was messy and our shared life, friends, assets all had to be split. I had a chip on my shoulder and knew there was always a chance I might run into him unexpectedly.

With my husband's death, the pain is completely different. I am shattered at unexpected moments when I remember how good we had it, and knowing the kids and I have to keep moving forward without him here with us. There is the abject confusion of how someone who appeared so healthy and full of joyful light could be here one day, and gone the next. Just, poof.

We have received a lot of warmth and support from our social circles, and the life we built together remains intact as "our" life, not split his/hers. The pain is from knowing he is supposed to be here, and is deeply wanted here, but will never be here again. We are rebuilding a life knowing that the life we had with him alive was better than any version I can possibly imagine going forward.