by regular contributor Dr. Leah Halpert
1.The Uncharted Path of Grief
Nothing has hit me as hard in my life as the passing of my husband. I lost my father in 2023, and while it brought immense sadness, I didn’t feel completely crushed. However, the sudden loss of my most beloved husband utterly shattered my world and nearly destroyed my very existence. When your soul is so deeply intertwined and in love with another, the death of one feels like the death of both.
2.No One Can Walk in Your Shoes and Feel What You Feel
When I was in the deepest grief, could anyone truly comfort me? No. No words from another human being could bring me peace. It felt like my soul had descended into an unknown space, like the bottom of the sea—so deep, so dark, so unreachable.
1.The Uncharted Path of Grief
Nothing has hit me as hard in my life as the passing of my husband. I lost my father in 2023, and while it brought immense sadness, I didn’t feel completely crushed. However, the sudden loss of my most beloved husband utterly shattered my world and nearly destroyed my very existence. When your soul is so deeply intertwined and in love with another, the death of one feels like the death of both.
2.No One Can Walk in Your Shoes and Feel What You Feel
When I was in the deepest grief, could anyone truly comfort me? No. No words from another human being could bring me peace. It felt like my soul had descended into an unknown space, like the bottom of the sea—so deep, so dark, so unreachable.
My emotions became like a tornado, whirling and uncontrollable. My heart was like a churning sea, filled with endless waves of sorrow and confusion. The agony was beyond description, pressing down on my very existence. The pain raged on, unrelenting and unbearable.
Even the most encouraging Bible scriptures suddenly lost meaning, and faith-filled prayers seemed to lose their power. The God I had trusted felt so distant, as though He had vanished without a trace.
No one can truly feel your pain unless they walk in your exact shoes.
3.Facing the Darkness Alone
Grief rewires the brain in ways that are hard to understand. It clouds your mind, making even simple tasks feel overwhelming. Thoughts blur, focus slips away, and everything feels out of sync. You struggle to process emotions, time, and identity in a world that no longer feels familiar.
At that moment, no one could fix it or make it stop.
I, alone, had to navigate the darkness, enduring sleepless nights with tears soaking my pillows, stretching on endlessly.
4.Memories Became a Double-Edged Sword
Well-meaning friends would say, 'Focus on the good memories.' But the opposite was true.
Every memory from the months before my husband’s death—every word he said, every conversation we had, every behavior he displayed—only triggered guilt, self-blame, and waves of tears. I couldn’t escape the haunting thought that I missed signs, that I should have known, that maybe if I had acted differently, things could have been different. Those memories pushed me deeper into the anguish of 'what ifs' and 'could haves.' Each recollection brought only tears, a painful reminder of everything I couldn’t change. Tears became my most trusted and unwavering companion, following me faithfully, day and night, wherever I wandered.
Even the sweet moments we once shared became a cruel reminder of a happiness I could never return to. The things that once brought comfort now tore open the wounds of my heart, making me question everything—could I have done more, said more, been more? The memories I once cherished became a double-edged sword, cutting deeper with every recollection.
5.Grief is Learning to Exist in the Space Left by Absence
Others, though trying to help, would suggest, ‘Get over it and move on with life.’
Grief isn’t about letting go or replacing the pain with positive thoughts.
Dealing with grief doesn’t mean moving on or forgetting. It means learning to live with the absence, finding a way to navigate the pain, and slowly integrating the loss into one's life so that one can continue.
Grief is not something we can "get over"—it's something we learn to carry. The intensity of the pain may soften over time, but the loss remains a part of us.
6.Grief is a Deeply Personal, Unique Journey
Grief is a complex, deeply personal experience. It’s not just about mourning the loss of someone or something; it’s about the emotional and physical toll that loss takes on us.
Everyone’s journey with grief is unique, and healing doesn't happen linearly. Some days may feel better than others, but the path forward is often winding and unpredictable.
Some joined bereavement groups to share their sorrow and find solace in the collective pain. But I could not. Hearing others' stories of painful loss only deepened the ache of my own, amplifying the hopelessness and helplessness that come with human suffering.
Some sought refuge by returning to the same church, drawing comfort from the familiar. But for me, it was different. I couldn’t bear to face the same surroundings. Every worship song only reminded me that my husband was no longer by my side—the one who always remarked how beautifully I sang, like an angel. Good, intentional, but superficial greetings felt hollow, offering no comfort but flooding me with tears.
When every part of you aches, no matter how much others try to console you, nothing can fill the emptiness or quiet the storm inside. When we love with our souls, we grieve with our souls, for the loss cuts deeper than the heart alone can bear.
7. Strangers Became My Unexpected Sources of Comfort
When the heartbreaking news spread, close friends, colleagues, and relatives gathered to attend my husband’s funeral and memorial services. They offered their final tributes, honoring his profound impact on their lives and careers.
The whirlwind of services brought a brief sense of gratitude for the outpouring of support. But all too quickly, except for a very few, everyone retreated into their busy lives as though nothing had changed. There were no texts, no calls, no follow-ups. Only I, alone, quietly endured the unbearable pain.
However, in the depths of my pain, I discovered an unexpected connection through LinkedIn with strangers from all walks of life—fellow souls who, too, carry their own suffering or have weathered their own storms. These strangers offered genuine encouragement, comfort, and an unspoken bond. In our grief, we are never truly alone.
7. True Healing Begins: Finding a New Purpose in Life
Is true healing possible? We face this question amid loss, and the answer isn’t simple. In some ways, yes, but in others, no.
Grief changes us in ways we can't always put into words. It leaves an indelible imprint on our hearts and minds, reshaping our inner perspectives and how we view the world around us.
When I transcended my struggles, God's divine purpose began to reveal itself. Losing my husband inspired me to find meaning in my trials, pick up my pen, and transform my experiences into a source of wisdom and compassion.
Through our suffering, we are shaped by gaining insights that foster our growth and empower us to support and uplift others facing similar challenges. By embracing this broader perspective, we allow our pain to become a conduit for compassion and healing, fulfilling a higher calling and purpose and making a meaningful impact on our lives and those who need help.
Even the most encouraging Bible scriptures suddenly lost meaning, and faith-filled prayers seemed to lose their power. The God I had trusted felt so distant, as though He had vanished without a trace.
No one can truly feel your pain unless they walk in your exact shoes.
3.Facing the Darkness Alone
Grief rewires the brain in ways that are hard to understand. It clouds your mind, making even simple tasks feel overwhelming. Thoughts blur, focus slips away, and everything feels out of sync. You struggle to process emotions, time, and identity in a world that no longer feels familiar.
At that moment, no one could fix it or make it stop.
I, alone, had to navigate the darkness, enduring sleepless nights with tears soaking my pillows, stretching on endlessly.
4.Memories Became a Double-Edged Sword
Well-meaning friends would say, 'Focus on the good memories.' But the opposite was true.
Every memory from the months before my husband’s death—every word he said, every conversation we had, every behavior he displayed—only triggered guilt, self-blame, and waves of tears. I couldn’t escape the haunting thought that I missed signs, that I should have known, that maybe if I had acted differently, things could have been different. Those memories pushed me deeper into the anguish of 'what ifs' and 'could haves.' Each recollection brought only tears, a painful reminder of everything I couldn’t change. Tears became my most trusted and unwavering companion, following me faithfully, day and night, wherever I wandered.
Even the sweet moments we once shared became a cruel reminder of a happiness I could never return to. The things that once brought comfort now tore open the wounds of my heart, making me question everything—could I have done more, said more, been more? The memories I once cherished became a double-edged sword, cutting deeper with every recollection.
5.Grief is Learning to Exist in the Space Left by Absence
Others, though trying to help, would suggest, ‘Get over it and move on with life.’
Grief isn’t about letting go or replacing the pain with positive thoughts.
Dealing with grief doesn’t mean moving on or forgetting. It means learning to live with the absence, finding a way to navigate the pain, and slowly integrating the loss into one's life so that one can continue.
Grief is not something we can "get over"—it's something we learn to carry. The intensity of the pain may soften over time, but the loss remains a part of us.
6.Grief is a Deeply Personal, Unique Journey
Grief is a complex, deeply personal experience. It’s not just about mourning the loss of someone or something; it’s about the emotional and physical toll that loss takes on us.
Everyone’s journey with grief is unique, and healing doesn't happen linearly. Some days may feel better than others, but the path forward is often winding and unpredictable.
Some joined bereavement groups to share their sorrow and find solace in the collective pain. But I could not. Hearing others' stories of painful loss only deepened the ache of my own, amplifying the hopelessness and helplessness that come with human suffering.
Some sought refuge by returning to the same church, drawing comfort from the familiar. But for me, it was different. I couldn’t bear to face the same surroundings. Every worship song only reminded me that my husband was no longer by my side—the one who always remarked how beautifully I sang, like an angel. Good, intentional, but superficial greetings felt hollow, offering no comfort but flooding me with tears.
When every part of you aches, no matter how much others try to console you, nothing can fill the emptiness or quiet the storm inside. When we love with our souls, we grieve with our souls, for the loss cuts deeper than the heart alone can bear.
7. Strangers Became My Unexpected Sources of Comfort
When the heartbreaking news spread, close friends, colleagues, and relatives gathered to attend my husband’s funeral and memorial services. They offered their final tributes, honoring his profound impact on their lives and careers.
The whirlwind of services brought a brief sense of gratitude for the outpouring of support. But all too quickly, except for a very few, everyone retreated into their busy lives as though nothing had changed. There were no texts, no calls, no follow-ups. Only I, alone, quietly endured the unbearable pain.
However, in the depths of my pain, I discovered an unexpected connection through LinkedIn with strangers from all walks of life—fellow souls who, too, carry their own suffering or have weathered their own storms. These strangers offered genuine encouragement, comfort, and an unspoken bond. In our grief, we are never truly alone.
7. True Healing Begins: Finding a New Purpose in Life
Is true healing possible? We face this question amid loss, and the answer isn’t simple. In some ways, yes, but in others, no.
Grief changes us in ways we can't always put into words. It leaves an indelible imprint on our hearts and minds, reshaping our inner perspectives and how we view the world around us.
When I transcended my struggles, God's divine purpose began to reveal itself. Losing my husband inspired me to find meaning in my trials, pick up my pen, and transform my experiences into a source of wisdom and compassion.
Through our suffering, we are shaped by gaining insights that foster our growth and empower us to support and uplift others facing similar challenges. By embracing this broader perspective, we allow our pain to become a conduit for compassion and healing, fulfilling a higher calling and purpose and making a meaningful impact on our lives and those who need help.
About Leah Halpert
Leah Halpert, Ph.D., is a university professor and a distinguished biomedical scientist. After the tragic death of her most cherished husband, she transformed her unbearable grief into a higher calling led by the Holy Spirit, channeling her deepest sorrow into strength and purpose by sharing a life shaped by resilience, revelation, and hard-earned wisdom.
Dr. Halpert’s social media links on LinkedIn and Substack: https://www.linkedin.com/in/leah-h-4407972a9/
https://leah19441.substack.com
Leah Halpert, Ph.D., is a university professor and a distinguished biomedical scientist. After the tragic death of her most cherished husband, she transformed her unbearable grief into a higher calling led by the Holy Spirit, channeling her deepest sorrow into strength and purpose by sharing a life shaped by resilience, revelation, and hard-earned wisdom.
Dr. Halpert’s social media links on LinkedIn and Substack: https://www.linkedin.com/in/leah-h-4407972a9/
https://leah19441.substack.com
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