Moving On After the Loss of Your Soulmate

Recovering From the Loss of Your Soul Mate

Moving On After the Loss of Your Soulmate

  • By Addison Koch
  • 31 Aug, 2018

Taylor was the love of my life. We first met the summer before our senior year of high school.

Her family had just moved from Atlanta and purchased the home across the street from mine. I was returning home from baseball practice when I first laid eyes on her.

She was beautiful, long brown hair, sun kissed skin and a smile that was intoxicating.

I still remember our first interaction, it was anything but smooth to say the least. I walked over to introduce myself but couldn’t find any words to say. Instead I stood there talking about nothing really and mostly making a fool of myself.

Over the next few weeks, we didn’t really talk. Honestly, I thought I had blown my shot with her. That was until two weeks into the fall baseball season. I was walking home when all of a sudden, I heard heads up and saw a baseball flying at me.

It was Taylor, she had just got back from my school’s game and wanted to congratulate me on the win. I was shocked. First off, I didn’t know that Taylor was a baseball fan and secondly, I never expected her to want to talk to me. We spent the next few hours talking.

Which mostly consisted with Taylor criticizing my curveball, saying it looked a beach ball.

As it turns out, a girl from Atlanta can play baseball. I learned that the hard way when I bet her that she couldn’t hit my curveball. The bet was simple, if I could strike her out, she had to go on a date with me. Well, the first pitch I threw, she turned on and slapped it over second base. For some reason though, she still wanted to go out with me.

Flash forward 8 years and Taylor and I had been married for 6 years with two beautiful 5-year-old girls. Just the day I made a bet with Taylor changed my life, so did the last day I spoke with her.

It was a typical Thursday night, I had just got home from my shift at the police station and Taylor was closing up her bakery for the night. I said, it was Thursday so that meant our girls had a softball game to go to.

I called Taylor and said I would take the girls to their game and she made plans to go to the grocery store and pick up a few things for dinner.

It was a short phone call, no more than 30 seconds. A quick hello before we made our plans for the evening. What I didn’t know was that this was the last time I would get to speak to Taylor. On her way home from the grocery store, there was a car accident and she didn’t make it.

When the game ended and my girls and I learned of the news, we were devastated. Taylor was my soulmate. My rock. And the backbone of our family. I was a police officer and your typical guys guy. I didn’t know the first thing about raising two young girls alone. How was I supposed to move on in life and give my girls the same amazing love and care that their mom provided.

I was devastated, and didn’t know what the next steps were. Taylor was the one that kept us organized, I don’t know how she did it. She could simultaneously have a tea party, braid hair, and make sure to not burn our dinner. Needless to say, I didn’t know how to do any of those things. My life had been shaken and our family’s future had been changed forever.

It’s now been three years since Taylor passed away, and I’ve learned how to keep living. For the first year and a half, I was heartbroken and felt I would never get better. It was hard, inside I felt empty, but I knew I had to be there for my girls and put on the brave face that they needed. Today I am happy again, but the sorrow of such a significant loss will never be forgotten.

The biggest thing that helped me was diving into my passions and exploring the things that Taylor enjoyed. I knew I had to play both roles as a parent and that meant doing the things with my girls that Taylor loved.

I’m now an expert at braiding hair and I dare you to find a better Prince Charming for a princess tea party. Taylor loved being a mom and what’s helped me the most has been keeping the things she loved to do with our girls a part of their life. At the same time, I’ve explored my own passions.

I’ve taken up coaching my girls’ softball team and started to renovate houses and flip them.

While it hasn’t been easy, I have discovered the five keys to dealing with grief and recovering from the loss of a soulmate.1. The first key to recovering from grief is spend time exploring your passions. I’ve always loved baseball and coaching my daughters’ team has allowed me to connect with them. I’ve also started to renovate houses and sell them. Building a project a new home allows me to work towards a goal and fill my time with something that is just for me.2. The second key to recovering from the loss of your soulmate is to take your time and grieve. Everyone experiences a loss differently with no specific timeline to follow. You need to spend some time grieving and working through the pain of loss. This won’t be easy as you will never truly get over your loved one. But in time, you learn how to love them but also love yourself again.3. The third key is to understand that it’s ok to date again when you’re ready. No one can replace your spouse, but that doesn’t mean you have to spend the rest of your life alone. In the time since Taylor’s death, I slowly started to date again and learned to share romance with others. No one can ever replace Taylor, but that doesn’t mean I have to spend the rest of my life alone.4. The fourth key is to learn to accept the loss of your love one. Although Taylor is gone, I know that her memory will never fade away. In the weeks following her death, I many others in similar situations was scared and unsure what the future would hold. But since then, I’ve learned that this is the beginning of a new chapter and learned to start living again. It may not be easy but once you accept the reality of the situation, you can begin to grow and transform.5. The fifth and final key to make sure that you keep your loved one’s memory alive. Before and after her death, Taylor has played a major part of my life. I still think of her every day and find myself thinking about her when I cook one of her favorite meals or drive by park she loved to visit. What many people don’t realize is that the little things others do stay with you. It’s not until you experience losing your spouse that you begin to realize how much they shaped you. It’s now that she’s gone, I think of her and appreciate all of the experiences we shared together.

While the experience of grief can be difficult, please know that you are not alone. Should you need additional support, please do not hesitate to call us at 937-848-6651. We will do our best to ease your bereavement and, if requested, can provide a referral to a local grief counsellor/therapist or share some helpful resources with you.


How To Go On After Your Soulmate Dies

Moving On After the Loss of Your Soulmate

“He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began.” — Leo Tolstoy

The term “soulmate” dates all the way back to Plato. It is a generic word for a close loved one. But the phrase soulmate itself was first recorded in 1822, when the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote in a letter, “To be happy in Married Life . . .

you must have a Soul-mate.” In today's vernacular, the word soulmate has come to assume a much more intimate nature. A 2016 soulmate is a more mystical co-mingling of heart and soul into a “twin flame.

” Those who are soulmates today are destined to be together for eternity.

Peter and I always felt we were each other's missing half. It was as if we were pieces of a puzzle that had come together and fit perfectly. Peter was the mirror to my soul. He was the person who was my cheerleader. He wanted me to succeed and I, in turn, wanted him to flourish. We were one organism that functioned as an integrated unit.

He was the key to my lock and I gave him the key to my chastity belt. (I had to inject some humor since the tears were wetting my keyboard.) We felt safe in our love and we allowed each other to function at a level of honesty and honor without pretenses. We attained a level of comfort and security that gave us a safety net that not many couples share.

We were inseparable companions enjoying our daily rituals of check-in phone calls and texts and anticipating when we would be home to share stories of our day. It was our verbal ablutions and we cherished them daily. We desperately wanted to grow old together and keep our life rhythm pulsing. We both felt privileged to have shared such a rare intimacy and kindness toward each other.

We felt grateful to share a sense of humor and perseverance about life. We were truly soulmates.

It is said to lose a parent is to lose the past. To lose a child is to lose the future. To lose a spouse, is to lose the present. I feel as if I have been robbed. Something irreplaceably valuable has been stolen from me.

I have lost my present with the death of my soulmate and the grief is dreadfully painful. I feel as if a limb has been amputated. Part of me has been torn away and I am flailing to find a sense of equilibrium and right myself to move forward without crashing.

It is the most heart-wrenching experience of my life, and by the nature of its overwhelming power made me question whether I wanted to go on.

The dilemma of losing a part of you is that your relationship has been abruptly severed, and you are left to sift through the emotional debris and extract your self from your missing coupledom.   

My grief is a byproduct of the intense love I shared with Peter. We were lucky to have found each other and shared a whole lifetime together. To quote Jules Styne in his musical Funny Girl:

“Lovers are very special people.They're the luckiest people in the world.With one person, one very special person.A feeling deep in your soul,Says you are half now you're whole.No more hunger and thirst,But first be a person who needs people.People who need people,

Are the luckiest people in the world.”

After Peter died, I felt that my whole was diminished to half. My “other half,” my “better half,” was suddenly gone and part of something attached to me died too. The couple that we were, was completely gone. I had to decide if my life was now half empty or half full. In the beginning, I was emptied all feeling.

I was mourning the couple we were and the empty half I had become. I was insecure in my decisions. My confidence was shot and I felt inadequate to face the future. I lost my unconditional best friend and partner who shared my confidences and my feelings.

I was bereft of that champion and I flailed around for many months in insecurity and self-doubt.

But as time moved on I knew I had to restore my view to “my life is half full, not half empty.” I hoped that if I changed my attitude to my life as half full, I could begin filling up the half of my life that was unfulfilled. It gave me the room for expansion and growth and looking toward a new beginning in my life.

I began to assess my attributes and took stock of the inventory of my soul. I strived to find the best me that I could view so that I could become whole in my own company.

I had to stop swooning at the Hollywood sentiment in Jerry McGuire's “you complete me!” Peter and I did complete each other.

I had to turn this phrase upside down and find the real me who would be enough to satisfy and complete me on my own.

But I know for the sake of my family and friends I must find a life without Peter. I must find a safe haven through my mourning process. Mourning is the driving force that makes the journey of grief move forward.

I vow to remain in the pain of grief long enough, but not a day longer than necessary. But I also vow to stay in the process of grief for not a day less than I need.

The only way I can adapt to my new life is to heal from the inside out.

Earlier on Huff/Post50:


What Have You Stopped Stressing About?


Looking for a book to read that can provide encouragement and hope as you continue on your grief journey? Alan Wolfelt, Ph.D., a renowned expert on the topic of healing in grief, has written a new book about honoring your soulmate and your grief as you find a path to purpose and joy. Read an excerpt from “When Your Soulmate Dies:”

Grief is everything we think and feel inside after someone or something we care about is taken away from us. Grief can be sadness. Grief can be anger. Grief can be shock and regret and confusion.

Grief can be these and many other possible emotions and thoughts. When we are grieving, precisely which mixture of emotions and thoughts we have inside of us changes from moment to moment and day to day.


In general, though, the stronger our attachment to the someone or something that was taken away from us, the stronger our grief.

Obviously, we grieve more deeply when a loved one dies than an acquaintance, for example.

Because the soulmate relationship is by definition built upon a particularly strong attachment, the grief that follows the tearing-apart of that relationship is also particularly strong. 

You have no doubt experienced a number of losses in your life, big and small. How has your grief in the aftermath of the death of your soulmate compared to the grief you felt after other losses? For many people, the grief they experience in the aftermath of the death of their soulmates is more much more devastating than other griefs they encounter in their lives. 

We heal grief through mourning, which is the active, outward, intentional expression of our inner grief. For grieving soulmates, healing often takes what I call “heroic mourning.

” What does that mean? If soulmate relationships are an epic love, then I humbly suggest that soulmate mourning needs to be equally epic. To effectively reconcile your outsized grief, your mourning must be Heroic with a capital H. I have come to believe that it takes medieval-style bravery.

It may also require larger-than-life levels of faith, sacrifice, loyalty, commitment, adventure, and honor. 

Grief as a quest

I often talk about grief as a journey through the wilderness. It is dangerous and lonely. It can be cold and dark. Grievers often feel lost there for a long, long time. You probably recognize this metaphor of the wilderness of grief.

Since your soulmate died, I imagine you, too, have often felt afraid, cold, lonely, and lost in the dark.
From here on out, I am challenging you, as a heroic mourner, to consider your grief journey as a quest.

You are still in the wilderness of your grief, and you may well still be lost. But because you are now taking on the responsibility of a quest, you will begin to think of your journey as a long, arduous search for something. You have a goal.

And the knights of old, you have a noble reason for achieving your goal—a reason that is bigger than you or any other individual person. 

Your goal on this quest is no less than to reconcile your epic grief and find meaning again in your continued living. It will not be easy. Your grief is profoundly wide and deep. You already know that it is complicated.

It is probably much more challenging than most if not all other griefs you have experienced in your life thus far. But I believe you are capable of encountering and moving through all the dangers along the way.

I have faith that you have within you the strength to achieve your goal. 

I don’t know you. So how can I have such blind faith in someone I’ve never met? And why am I so sure that you, too, should be certain in your capacity to mourn well and go on to live well again? 

Here’s how I know: I’ve been privileged to bear witness to the healing of many grieving soulmates in my decades as a grief counselor and educator, but more important, I am giving you soulmate credit. You weren’t just half of a soulmate relationship. You were and are a soulmate. 

Because you are a soulmate, you get which values really matter in life. You know how to cultivate friendship. You excel at companionship. You are well acquainted with the power of physical connection. You appreciate the joy of laughter. You know how to be vulnerable and have witnessed the transformative things that can happen when you open yourself to vulnerability.

You’re good at kindness. You know how to see things through over the long haul. You persevere nobody’s business. You’re a master at selflessness and sacrifice. You think of life as an adventure. You have borne witness to the power of rituals. And despite your loss, you understand what a privilege and honor it was to have experienced a soulmate relationship.

You appreciate the gift of gratitude. 

I am so sure that you have the capacity to succeed at your grief quest because the skills it will take are the same skills you mastered as a soulmate.  

About the Author

Dr. Alan Wolfelt is a respected author and educator on the topic of healing in grief. He serves as Director of the Center for Loss and Life Transition and is on the faculty at the University of Colorado Medical School's Department of Family Medicine. Dr.

Wolfelt has written many compassionate, bestselling books designed to help people mourn well so they can continue to love and live well, including “When Your Soulmate Dies: A Guide to Healing Through Heroic Mourning,” from which this article was excerpted. Visit www.centerforloss.

com to learn more about the natural and necessary process of grief and mourning and to order Dr. Wolfelt’s books.   


What if you find (and lose) a soulmate

Moving On After the Loss of Your Soulmate

A soulmate is not found. A soulmate is recognized.

I have a theory. There is a difference between a person you can fall in love with and a person who is your real soulmate. It feels totally different to be with one or the other. And if you have been with your soulmate once, you will know the difference.

With a soulmate it is not only about falling in love, it is a cosmically strong spiritual connection, a level further. Your soulmate really owns your heart, and the relationship between you two is something extremely intense, pure, overwhelming, and magical.

It’s a person that really makes you feel at home, you cannot imagine how life would be without him/her and you feel you have known each other through many lifetimes (which your soul probably has).

I feel a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything. Maybe we’re from the same star.

Now, wait for it. It is possible that you and your soulmate are just not meant to be. At least not yet. Maybe in the next life. But right now, you have tried everything, and your relationship has not worked out anyway. Not because of the lack of love, but because of circumstances, external things, who knows what. The ship is sinking.

Waving goodbye to your soulmate is a pain that feels nothing less than unbearable. It feels all the strings inside you are breaking, you are not sure anymore who you are and where are you going from now on. As if a part of your soul was torn out. Your friends will tell you ‘It’s not the end of the world’. But actually, it feels exactly as if it was.

Giving someone a piece of your soul is better than giving a piece of your heart. Because souls are eternal.

What happens next? Well, you’ll find love again, but it will never feel the same. It will be a nice relationship, but you will always feel something is missing. You cannot explain it in a rational way, but it does not go away.

Furthermore, no matter how many years pass, you still think about the memories. You will always remember. Especially when very bad or very good things happen, that you know only your soulmate would really understand.

You’ll feel a burning need to reach out to them, but because we use our minds and not hearts as the main GPS, you won’t. You’ll get random deja-vu from time to time, allowing a smell or a sound to take you back to the time you shared.

You’ll always carry it with you, locked with a heavy key in a dusted basement in the bottom of your heart.

Finally, you will become a different person. Since a part of your soul dies when your soulmate leaves, you will never feel entirely the same.

Your new partner will make you happy, but it won’t be the same insane feeling overthrowing your whole body and soul. It will be much more stable, rational, calm, comforting.

Which may be a good thing in the end. Nobody can live on an infinite rollercoaster.

Lastly, you keep dreaming of your soulmate, no matter how much time has passed, it still happens from time to time.

We had the stars, you and I. And this is given once only.

Photo by Nicole Honeywill on Unsplash

Soulmates don’t grow on trees, that’s for sure. It’s not the easiest thing to find them. And if you did manage to find them, it’s possible that you were not able to keep them.

True love is magical and mystical and overwhelming, and not everyone has the chance to experience it. But it is also complicated and difficult.

It’s water that we want to hold between our hands. No matter how hard we try to pull our fingers together, we know at some point that we cannot avoid it — it will find its way to escape, and only our wet skin will remind us that it has once been here.

Maybe soulmates are stars in the dark satin of the sky. Some are long dead but their light still shines upon us. Some are there but we cannot see them. Some have been in the same place for such a long time we take simply them for granted. All together they set alight the sky we look up at for meaning and inspiration as we move toward the promise of a new day.

Loving can cost a lot but not loving always costs more. As one of my favorite poets said:

It is correct to love even in the wrong time.

So, I guess, let’s keep searching, and hopefully also finding, but most importantly — living and loving.

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Losing Your Soul Mate Is The Best Thing That Can Happen To You

Moving On After the Loss of Your Soulmate

The idea of finding a “soul mate” is associated with a complexity of emotion that is best described in the simplest of terms.

Being with your soul mate just makes sense.

When you find this person, you just know. It’s an instant feeling of connection and security. This person fits so perfectly into your life, it’s as if he or she had somehow been in it all along. This is someone you can’t imagine being without — a person who has the ability to love you or break you.

It’s a love so pure and so strong, it consumes you; a perpetual state of calming assurance that everything will be all right.

For some, this person will be a lifelong partner, but for others, it simply cannot be. Not all of us are meant to be with our soul mates because, sometimes, being in love simply isn't enough.

Letting go of a soul mate is among the hardest things you'll ever do. After all, letting go means you're willingly ignoring someone who brings you incomparable happiness. This person is a best friend and partner, who, up until the breaking point, knew you better than anyone you’ve ever known.

By letting go, you’re also willingly accepting defeat, and with that, comes the crushing thought of having to start all over again. Though it may seem difficult to believe, the realization that it must end and actually ending it will be easy; it’s forgetting that is the hardest part.

Forgetting routines and moments is hard. Forgetting how to get through a day without involving this person is hard. Forcing yourself to remember that the other person has his or her life and you have yours and that the two can continue existing without each other is hard.

From this point on, your lives will run parallel, but will no longer collide. Accepting that isn't easy. This is the hardest part because, despite this realization and despite ending it, the love still remains. It leaves you wondering, “Where does the love that you’ve built go when the relationship is over?”

Despite what you may believe, losing a soul mate will actually awaken your soul. It will leave you with the insight necessary to learn what you want your next relationship, with what you’re willing to put up and with what you’ll never deal again.

There are many lessons to be learned from losing your soul mate. The most important is the understanding that an all-encompassing love — the kind that swallows you whole — is not always the love you need. This kind of love can sometimes be a hindrance that holds you captive in a relationship, which may not be right in other aspects.

In simplest terms, a love that’s meant to be, will be. The absence you feel upon its loss, however, will teach you a great deal about yourself. You’ll learn a new kind of independence; it will teach you not to remake certain mistakes you made in the relationship.

Once you’ve learned all you can, you will reach a point where this soul mate will be nothing more than remnants of love left, with space cleared for new love to come. You may never have a greater love than this, but there certainly will be a better one. And, though time won’t change the fact that this love existed, it will give you the experience to help move forward.

As time passes, you may meet someone with whom you intend to replicate lost love; then after, perhaps someone who stands for everything your ex was against. Though it will at first seem inconceivable, you'll eventually meet someone who possesses the attributes you once loved about someone else, but this new person won't leave you feeling empty.

This person won’t make you cry; this person will understand you in a ways you never thought to consider and will appreciate all that you are and all that your relationship is and will be. This new person will do what the other failed to do. This new person will not choose to break you.

This new person will choose to love you, to mend you and to show you that by letting go of your soul mate, you paved the way for true love.


After Death Contact Keeps Wife Connected to Soul Mate

Moving On After the Loss of Your Soulmate

After my husband’s death, I looked for ways to continue our love.  I looked for ways to stay connected to him beyond the veil.  I wanted to understand death and dying.  I searched for ways for us to stay connected through our love, and for ways that we could still communicate.

I read about ADC’s, which stands for after death communications.  I prayed that Eddie would still let me know that he was with me, and that he still loved me; that was the only way that I was going to survive my walk alone.

I now believe that our loved ones are able to communicate with us if we remain open the possibilities.  I am one of the lucky ones.  I have received and continue to receive many after death communications from him.

I can remember the very first ADC that I received from him; it remains vivid in my mind.  One sunny afternoon only a few weeks after my husband’s death, my daughter, my granddaughter, and I were standing in our driveway.

  I was saying good-bye to them after one of their many visits with me.  It was always sad for me to say good-bye to them, and return to the empty house.

  I would try and keep my composure until they were on their way; then I would put the garage door down and cry.

We were standing in the driveway saying our good-byes, and a butterfly was flitting around us.  My granddaughter was taken by the beauty of the butterfly.

  We stood there talking and watching the butterfly fly by, then return to us.  I don’t know what made me do it but I put my hand out and told my granddaughter that the butterfly would land on my hand.

  I told her that it was a sign from Grandpa.

I can only wonder what ever made me say that.  We all laughed; after all, Grandma never had a butterfly land on her hand on command before.  But, I felt for certain the butterfly would land as I spoke to it in my mind.

Lo and behold, the butterfly landed on my hand and stayed there for quite some time.  Then, it flew away only to return a short while later.  I again said that if I put my hand out that it would land on my hand again, and amazingly it did.  Again, it stayed on my hand for some time.

We were certain that it was a message from my husband; they often say that butterflies are a sign that our loved ones are around.  My granddaughter wanted the butterfly to land on her hand but instead it flew away and didn’t return.  This was the first ADC that I received.

These communications happen in many ways.  Most importantly, you have to believe in them.  So many people refuse to believe that our loved ones are communicating with us from beyond the veil.  They explain away these communications as mere coincidences or as imaginations run wild.  However, in my heart I know that they are real.

For instance, another common way of communicating is by feathers.  That first year after my husband’s death, as I walked into work, I would find a feather.  I have a box full of feathers.  I even found a feather under my desk at home and there is no logical explanation as to how it got there.  I still work at the same place and I have yet to find a feather as I enter the building.

I keep an immaculate house.  One day, I walked into the bedroom only to find a small paper heart on the carpet.  It wasn’t there before, and I can’t explain how it got there.  But, it made my heart sing because I knew that it was a message from Eddie telling me that he loved me.

These are just two examples of how he has communicated with me.

  There have been flashing lights, radio station interruptions, burners on the stove that I can’t turn off (the electronic ignition just kept trying to ignite – Eddie used to love to cook).

There was the Grandmother clock that we bought when we were first married, stopping only to start again and then keeping perfect time (it had been running slow.)

I have learned that these are happenings that I can’t share openly with everyone.  I think it is because unless you have lost your spouse, unless you have lost the love of your life, unless you have lost your soul mate, there is no way that you can understand.

No one wants to talk about death.  No one wants to talk about the possibility of after death communications except for those who so desperately want to hear from their loved one.  So, these are things that I hold close to my heart; happenings that allow me to continue my walk alone without the love of my life.

Paula Ezop 2011

signs and connections


Moving On After the Loss of Your Soulmate

Moving On After the Loss of Your Soulmate

Moving on without you… | Source

How many of us have faced the reality of the death of a loved one in our lives? Pretty much everyone, I would imagine.

Today, I'm going to talk specifically about the death of a spouse and/or soulmate.

Physical death—although the doorway into another life for the person who has died—is still a doorway that we can't enter unless we ourselves die. Reading about near-death experiences or perhaps even experiencing it for ourselves does not mean we really know what life is after our physical death. We simply can't. We weren't meant to know.

But one thing we're always reminded of is the necessity to “carry on.” What does “carrying on” mean to the survivor who still has to cope with life here on Earth without the presence of the person they are grieving for? I mean, how in hell are we supposed to do that?

Accepting the Reality of Their Physical Death

Well, for starters, it means accepting the reality of your loved one's physical death. His or her physical body died. Just because we continue to communicate with them in our hearts doesn't mean that their physical body didn't die. It did. Their physical presence will never again be known to us.

We will never again be graced by their shadow, their embrace, their touch, their scent, their laughter, or the eyes that communicated directly into our souls when they looked at us.

We will never again have that physical connection with them while we still remain here on Earth. Their physical presence is gone, plain and simple.

They are no longer able to be there for us in the way they once were.

This can make us feel incredibly lonely, sometimes to the point of feeling unsafe on all fronts. We can no longer share stuff with them.

We might look at their framed picture and talk to them, but we still feel very disconnected.

Occasionally, we might ask God for a sign, any sign at all, that our loved one is okay and is hearing our never-ending dialogue with them, but we never get definitive proof, at least not physically.

This is very hard, but we must accept that our loved one is not going to ever again materialize physically to us, no matter how much we pray. It is what it is. They transformed. We didn't.

Re-examining Your Own Faith

At this point, you must be wondering, “Okay, so what's the point here? My loved one died. I am lost without him or her. I still need that person so desperately. How could God be so cruel as to take that love away from me? For that matter, how am I supposed to carry on?”

Our loved ones have already learned all of the lessons they needed to learn while on this planet.

I have no doubt that they are now exactly where they are meant to be, and they are surrounded by love and joy and don't want us to hurt over the loss of them in our lives.

Instead, they gently guide us each time we falter and keep reminding us, “It's okay. I am surrounded by love, and you will also be surrounded by that same love some day. We are all connected. We are all one.”

Re-examining our faith in something greater than ourselves isn't all that difficult once we have lost someone dear to us from this physical world. In order to carry on despite sometimes miserable, lonely circumstances, all we need to ask is, “Did I love that person? Did they touch my heart? Did they make me feel loved?”

If your answer to those questions is yes, then you already have your bigger answer. Once you connect with someone on this planet, you are connected forever.

Love is more than an emotional response hardwired into our physical brains. True love transcends all things physical and is what sustains us through our incredible journeys, with or without our loved ones.

It is the essence of our lives. It is what makes us tick, and we would all die without it.

Living Day to Day—Putting One Foot In Front of the Other

“Yeah, but how do I put one foot in front of the other on a day-to-day basis? I mean, this is SO hard for me. How in heck am I supposed to 'carry on'? The love of my life is no longer with me! Don't you get that?”

Yes, I truly do get that.

What's the point of going through the motions each and every day if our loved ones are no longer here to share it with us? I mean, it's a pretty empty life, right? All we want to do is speed up our own demise so that we can be with them. Yes, let's pull out that cask of wine or case of beer and live the rest of our lives regretting the things that we never had any control of to begin with.

That type of thinking is okay for a while, but only for a very little while. And I do believe that anyone who has lost someone dear to them is entitled to their meltdowns, so long as those moments/hours/days of sheer agony and despair don't transform into an entire lifetime of grief.

At the end of the day, after we have cried our eyes out and damned our wretched lives enough times, we have to start thinking about our own contribution to this planet and what that means to us. We have to come to grips with whether or not our day-to-day existence means anything to anybody.

Do you have a son or daughter you've become estranged from? When was the last time you called your elderly father or mother? Did you make someone else smile because of your sense of humor? Did you joke with a co-worker, friend, or a stranger on the subway? What did you do today to contribute to the life of another human being? Are you aware that whatever small token of kindness (without any hidden agenda) you extend to another person is also helping to fortify their soul during their own tough journey through this sometimes brutal and perplexing life we all lead?

Yes, your life has a day-to-day purpose, even if you have lost the only person you thought could ever understand you or love you for exactly the person you are. You'd be surprised by how many of the good things your loved one taught you can be easily extended to others.

Pass on their gift. Share the joy. Make each day an opportunity to do at least one good thing for a fellow human being.

That will make your departed loved one very, very happy indeed, something you will be proud to tell them at the end of the day while you are talking to their photograph.

Finally, Give Yourself Permission to Love Again

“Love again? I doubt it. There will never be another person on this planet who could replace him/her.”

True. No one will ever replace your loved one in your heart, nor should they. But to forever close your heart to others would be a real shame. After all, every person on this planet needs love; it's so basic to our survival. And our hearts are capable of infinite love for as many people as we will let into our lives. Our hearts can never be too full of love.

If you allow your own soul to die inside, you are removing yourself from this existence and are living out the rest of your life almost a prison sentence, just crossing off the days on the calendar until you can be with that person again. In the meantime, all of the opportunities to connect with other souls on this earth are passing you by unnoticed. It's no longer your loved one who has become a shadow, it's you!

Would your loved one want you to suffer so? Would they want you to waste the rest of the precious gift that is your life by never again feeling love for another person? Would they want you to live in mortal fear of experiencing yet another loss of someone you dare to love? Would they want you to feel guilty that you are somehow disrespecting their memory simply because you have found it in your heart to love someone again?

We all know the answers to these questions. In every case, it's an emphatic no.

I know an incredibly loving woman who has survived the death of two husbands, and yet still found it in her heart to love a third. Had she not done that, she wouldn't have had the experience of making someone else's journey through this life as happy as it was.

Her gift of love was blessed upon others three times! Do those previous two husbands look down from heaven and say, “Gee, I'm jealous that she's with another man”? No, they say, “Thank you for continuing to be the loving person that you are.

That is why I fell in love with you in the first place.”

Another woman that I know died peacefully a few months ago. She was the fiancée of my best friend. She herself had lost her husband before she met my friend. She used to say to him that her departed husband had picked him out for her!

During the time she was alive, I saw such an incredible transformation in my friend, I can't even begin to tell you. His step was lighter, his eyes twinkled more, and his self-confidence soared.

She truly was the “love of his life.” A love he never would have known had she shut off her heart to the world while she waited to join her deceased husband.

She made an incredibly wonderful difference in the life of my dear friend, and I thank her for that.

He says to me now, “When I die, they will both be there to greet me when my time comes.”

At the same time, if you have no desire to ever enter into another romantic relationship in your lifetime, the abundance of love inside of you still has the potential to generously spill over toward others in so many rewarding ways, whether they're a family member, friend, or even a complete stranger. Your heart will always seek a way to express your love to someone, somehow, simply because your soulmate taught you so well how to love and be loved in its purest form. Share that gift! And remember that love (in its many forms) always wins, but living with a closed-off heart always loses.

This one's for you, my beloved Shaun. Thank you for teaching me how to live with an open heart. I love you.


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