"My husband died in a plane crash with his father 16 months ago."
That phrase always enters a conversation within the first few minutes. I watch the shock enter their faces, and they quickly offer an,
"I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," I reply.
Then I begin to explain how our family is getting through this. I tell them about my kids and our faith and about me blogging and trying to help others with their grief. I share stories about Scott and my knowledge that we chose this trial. I share my spiritual experiences and testify of things that I know to be true now.
Why do I do this?
I think at first, I just really wanted to talk about him. My kids hated that I would talk about dad with just about anyone, but I just couldn't help it. I wanted everyone to know what a great guy he was. I found that sharing helped me to feel better. Not only that, but I found that people left me feeling inspired. They wanted to be better husbands and fathers. They wanted to be kinder, and they wanted to know how in the world we were handling all of this.
Is it because I just can't get over my grief?
This is what is healing me.
So in the grocery store, at the gas station, on the airplane, or just about anywhere I can strike up a conversation, these words come out of my mouth.
(My boys can even mockingly do my spiel in a high pitched voice... very funny actually)
Some people think I'm probably totally crazy bearing my soul to complete strangers ( I know my kids sometimes do!) However, I find that
