For a couple of decades, my mission was to write the best books I could, to get published, and ultimately to make a living as an author. I succeeded in the first two, and despite my focus and determination, I never figured out how to accomplish the third task.
Eventually my focus shifted, and I felt as if my mission was to tell the truth about grief: that there weren’t any clearly defined stages to climbing out of the pain but instead was a chaotic spiral of never ending and ever recurring emotions, physical side effects, and mental fog; that grief lasted longer than anyone could imagine; and that eventually you would become the person who could handle the soul-searing loss.
I kept at my truth-telling long after people told me I should “drop the mantle of grief” because so many grievers were helped by my raw writings, though to be honest, in real life, I did learn to cloak my sorrow, mostly to keep other people from feeling bad about my situation.
As the years passed, and I became the person I needed to be to survive the death of the person who made my life worth living, I felt less need to continue the mission. Those writings are all there for new grievers to find, but I no longer have anything to say on the subject.
Now my focus is taking care of myself so I can remain strong and independent and living in my own house until my road ends. This is not a mission so much as an intention. There’s no feeling as if this focus is a calling, no sense that it’s a quest, just a vague attempt to do the best I can for myself each day.
Maybe someday I’ll find another mission, but for now, I’m just as glad to drift, dealing with what comes as it comes, without an all-consuming purpose.
***
Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.
Bertram's Blog 
January 9, 2026 at 12:29 pm
As I am still grieving, I appreciate your insights and hope I will survive this. At present, I am dealing with a move I hadn’t intended to make until my health failed. Thanks for the upbeat analysis. Royann
January 9, 2026 at 5:05 pm
You’re still too new to grief. It truly does take years, between three and five to find some sort of sense that you will survive, and a move doesn’t help. I’m hoping someday if I’m ever up your way, we can manage a visit.
January 9, 2026 at 8:39 pm
I would love to see you. I am so lonely. Everyone told me the 1st year was the hardest and I am finishing my second year this is impossible.
January 10, 2026 at 7:53 am
The second year is by far the hardest. I don’t know why except that during the first year, we are still numb with pain and “widows’ brain.” Somehow we think if we can just get through that first year, we’ll be okay, then we wake up on the 366th day and find that nothing has changed. That the loss will be there for the rest of our life, and we fall further into that black hole of grief. You know how long it took me. I was still dealing with grief issues when we met, and that was after the third anniversary. Sending you thoughts of peace.
January 10, 2026 at 7:58 am
Thanks for the almost okay news. I will keep going on. What choice do I have?
January 10, 2026 at 9:17 am
Right. No choice. You survived a great grief once. You can do it again. Though it won’t be easy at all. I wish I lived closer so I could give you a sympathetic hug, but the thought is there.
January 10, 2026 at 3:17 pm
Thanks for the virtual hug. Sure needed it. Nice to know you are thinking of me. Everyone else just disappears.
January 10, 2026 at 5:29 pm
Yes, they do. People can’t handle other people’s grief. They like to pretend somehow it’s your fault or that it’s catching. Mostly, they don’t ever want to think it can happen to them.
January 12, 2026 at 3:01 pm
However, we both know it will happen to them or it will happen to someone they love. This is what is known as reality.
January 12, 2026 at 4:40 pm
Definitely!