Grieving Held On; Slowly, I Became More Resilient

I Was Slowly Becoming More Resilient

Each morning I woke to face my adversary, grieving. Grieving waited for me with a smile seeking to knock me down again and again. Each day I rose determined to fight back. Slowly, I was becoming stronger, more resilient. I didn’t notice it at first; it was at the ten week mark of grieving where I thought I got a glimpse of dawn that lasted long enough to give me hope. Here is an excerpt from my journal in Dancing Alone: Learning to Love Again:

“I am at the ten-week mark of grieving. I think I see progress in small ways. In other ways, the emptiness is as strong as it was on day one. Living one day at a time, doing the best I can, and trying to stay in the moment is a herculean task.

Perhaps grief will never leave me. I wonder when people look at me and see me smiling if they think I’ve bounced all the way back and no longer see me grieving. I put on a happy face. I smile. I engage in conversations. I try not to speak about my grieving. If asked, I share my story again and again. It is the price I pay for the gift of loving Babe. Would I trade my life and wish it differently if I knew my life with Babe would end this way? I wouldn’t think about it for a second. My life with Babe was, and continues to be, a love story.

Babe, through her life, taught me to love. She was as close to God in her life as anyone I’ve ever known. Why would I trade that?”

Ordering information for the paperback or ebook version of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again may be found at

Excerpt From: Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again by Ray Calabrese. This material is protected by copyright

Author: Ray Calabrese

I am an optimistic, can do, and never quit guy. The spirit of hope indelibly marks my DNA. My research at The Ohio State University helped people discover the best in themselves and change their personal lives, public organizations, and whole communities. I bring the same spirit and enthusiasm to my blog to help those who grieve who find themselves suddenly alone, navigate their grieving. Join my more than 24,300Twitter (@alwaysgoodstuff). I promise my tweets are always good stuff. Please feel free to email me at

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