Never Alone – Finding Comfort in Loss

After nearly 50 years of marriage, I expected to be consumed by loneliness after losing Regina. How could I not? She was my partner, my confidant, and the love of my life. But here’s the paradox: in her absence, I feel her presence more deeply than I ever imagined. Only those who’ve experienced loss might understand what I mean when I say I am not lonely. Instead, I am comforted by what I can only describe as the “ghost” of her—her spirit that walks with me daily.
I find myself talking to her, not aloud but in the quiet spaces of my mind. Her voice has replaced my own inner monologue, guiding me through moments big and small. When I write, when I reflect, or even when I face life’s little irritations, I sense her presence. The arguments, the frustrations, the petty things that once seemed so significant—they’ve all faded into the background, leaving only laughter and warmth. Now, I look back at those moments and smile. How arbitrary they seem now.
Recently, I had a heartfelt conversation with my dear friend, the Deacon. He lost his beloved Bonnie earlier this year, and we shared this unique experience of loss. He described how memories of frustrating family moments, the chaos of life, have been replaced with cherished “remember that time” stories. It seems grief has a way of distilling what truly matters, leaving us with gratitude for the love we shared.
Regina passed away before I wrote Tracks of Our Tears and From Promise to Peril, yet I feel her fingerprints on every page. It’s as if she guided my words, leading me to uncover the family documents that shaped these stories. Those discoveries felt more than coincidental; they felt like her whispering, “Keep going. Tell our story.”
I’ve spoken to others who have faced loss, and many share similar experiences. The loved ones they’ve lost aren’t gone—they linger in the spaces they used to fill, in the memories that resurface, and in the quiet moments of reflection. I see Regina in the way light falls through the window, in a song that plays unexpectedly, in the laughter of our grandchildren.
I’m not lonely. I am always in her company. She is my companion in grief, my muse in creativity, and my comfort in solitude. Loss is not the absence of love; it’s the transformation of it. And in that transformation, I have found peace, a peace I never thought possible.

For those who are grieving, I hope you find comfort in your memories. Perhaps you, too, will hear the voice of your loved one guiding you. And when you do, may it remind you that love is eternal.
#LoveAndLoss
#GriefJourney
#NeverAlone
#LifeAfterLoss
#ComfortInMemories
#EternalLove
#FindingPeace
#GriefAndHealing
#CherishedMoments
#SpiritOfLove
#WritingThroughGrief
#RememberingRegina
#LoveNeverDies