I was 20 when my dad died. I had the fortune of having a roommate who was also grieving. I had someone right there who understood. We made space for each other. We went through a lot of Kleenex. My grief continued long beyond that year. It ebbed and flowed. Now, 34 years later, that grief is gentle and warm and familiar. And yes, it is still with me.

Since then, I’ve grieved other losses. I grieved when I moved four states east for a job. I grieved when I struggled to get pregnant. I grieved when I left the career I’d trained for. I grieved when I divorced.

Some of those losses I chose for myself. They were exactly what I wanted. Still, I lost communities, future hopes, and pieces of my identity.

I have spent months (years) frozen in grief. I have been taken to my knees, keening. I have wept so many silent tears or had my voice catch at countless moments of memory. I have raged at myself and at others for choices and behaviors of the past. I have changed the direction of my life. And then changed it again. And again. I have held tight to the essentials. I have chosen to make space for new possibilities.

Beautiful, beautiful new things have come into my life. They will for you too, in time.

Jill Terwilliger, BA, M.Div, CPCC

grief counselor * entrepreneur * artist * minister * mediator * hospice chaplain * restorative practices facilitator * mentoring matchmaker * house painter