{"id":2128,"date":"2025-10-22T16:03:47","date_gmt":"2025-10-22T16:03:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/?p=2128"},"modified":"2025-10-22T16:03:47","modified_gmt":"2025-10-22T16:03:47","slug":"i-never-thought-the-virus-would-get-to-us-we-were-too-safe-too-smart-young-widow-candidly-details-grief-journey-after-losing-husband-to-covid-19","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/?p=2128","title":{"rendered":"\u2018I never thought the virus would get to us. We were too safe, too smart.\u2019: Young widow candidly details grief journey after losing husband to Covid-19"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cLife is a funny thing. I don\u2019t mean funny in a comedy way; I mean it more in a \u2018WTF\u2019 type of way.<\/p>\n

Before I lost my husband, I was a huge kid at heart, and I know he loved that about me. Jonathan carried so much heaviness his entire life and when we got together, I refused to let him feel it anymore. I loved making inappropriate jokes that would always make him cringe, I loved scaring him (he was the easiest person to scare) even though he would get so mad at me. I loved getting excited about the smallest things, whether it be going to dinner, a movie, a day trip \u2013 basically anything. If we had something planned, I would constantly be counting down the days, texting him just to heighten his excitement as well. I was a huge Christmas, Halloween and Disney fan and I know my love for that brought joy to Jonathan\u2019s life. I know this because he would verbally say it, but also his demeanor and smiles would tell me everything.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Days before my husband would find out he contracted Covid, I was excited to have him home with us for an extended period. I never thought the virus would get to us; we were too safe, too smart, so I thought we would have 30 days of strictly family time which we all so desperately needed. I begged Jonathan to let me buy us board games, or even just Uno cards. (He refused, he said he was too competitive for board games.) We were researching an at-home tattoo kit to practice on each other, and we had started Binge watching Love Is Blind. I remember saying out loud to him how excited I was for everything to shut down; I couldn\u2019t wait to have him to ourselves. How na\u00efve was I? He\u2019d be sick less than a week later and gone a month after that.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Grief, meaning that deep, life-altering heartbreak grief, destroys some people. I look at it like a Dementor from Harry Potter: this soulless figure who sucks everything out of you, leaving you alive but empty from all emotions. My mind, body, and heart are so eternally broken, I can\u2019t remember what happiness felt like before Covid destroyed my family. I see it in pictures and videos we took, but I can\u2019t feel it. My life before Jonathan\u2019s death seems as if it never existed, and in turn I never existed. The only thing that feels real to me now is this woman in front of me, who feels as if breathing hurts, who has cried every day for 16 months, who\u2019s body looks ravaged by sadness and emptiness. A woman whose husband would look at her today and just cry because of the damage his loss has caused me.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

It\u2019s been over a year since I last spoke to my husband, since I last saw him alive, but in my mind it doesn\u2019t register that this isn\u2019t a dream. It\u2019s weird; I know he\u2019s not coming home, but I can so clearly in my mind picture him walking through our door. I can physically feel my knees become weak at the idea, what it would feel like to run towards him and hold him. You\u2019d think after a year I\u2019d start to process this whole situation better, but the truth is I have regressed more than progressed.<\/p>\n

I am having panic attacks almost daily; my depression has worsened to an unbearable level, but yet my ability to function has gotten better. I feel more independent as a parent, like for the first time I am taking the reins back on our life. So how can I be emotionally a train wreck, but functionally better? That\u2019s the question I keep asking myself. My depression tells me every second of everyday what a failure I am, how everyone looks at me as weak and unable to manage the day-to-day tasks. But then I also see how I am doing more and more independently and wanting to distance myself from everyone. I can be so disgustingly weak but also strong in the same sense.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

I look back on the last 16 months and much of it is a blur. I really have no memories and no feelings about it. The memories I do have aren\u2019t necessarily pleasant ones and I look forward to one day speaking about them freely (but for now it has to wait). I feel as if I missed SO much time with our kids. I look at videos and pictures of them and can\u2019t remember them like that. My memory really doesn\u2019t start phasing in until after this past holiday season, before that barely anything remains. I am angry about it because for the last 16 months what took me away from my children were things I should never had to deal with, more than I have been able to share with anyone.<\/p>\n

I have been trying for 16 months to find my place in this world; I have spread myself SO thin. It\u2019s only been a year, but I am still trying to put a band aid on something I know a band aid won\u2019t fix. For so long I saw myself as this advocate for Covid victims, as fighting to make my husband more than just a number, but the truth is he is just a number. Not to me of course, to me he is everything, he is the embodiment of what a human being should be. but to the rest of the world he\u2019s just one of 612,000 people who have died from Covid. They don\u2019t mourn the way I do, their lives aren\u2019t forever destroyed by his loss, he\u2019s just a heartwarming\/wrenching story of a life taken too soon. But then they move on, leaving the kids and I in the aftermath of his loss. I can\u2019t fight anymore; I have nothing left in me. I can\u2019t fight to keep Jonathan\u2019s name relevant, to make people understand the seriousness of Covid. I can\u2019t fight to have our government protect our loved ones more, I can\u2019t fight for people to see my family as more than a statistic \u2013 there\u2019s just nothing left in me to.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

What I\u2019ve learned most about grief is none of it makes sense, and none of it ever will again. I can feel independent, yet overwhelmed at the same time. I can be so depressed over the loss of my husband, but still have a dance party in the kitchen with our kids. None of those things go together, none of them go hand in hand, but in grief they do. Grief strips you down to your bare bones of a human being and then just watches for how you respond. Some people can start re-growing their skin more quickly than others, or if you\u2019re like me it\u2019s a second-by-second process with no real growth in the immediate future. But I\u2019ve learned that\u2019s okay; knowing you\u2019re in your grief rather than running from it is much harder than pretending you\u2019re okay. Saying, \u2018I am not okay\u2019 and owning it doesn\u2019t bring this sense of peace, it makes you more vulnerable (if possible). But I\u2019ve learned even after 16 months of being the dreaded \u2018W\u2019 word (widow), everyday comes with another fresh cut, another reminder he\u2019s gone. But it will also be another day of discovering who I am, what I stand for and what makes me, me again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cLife is a funny thing. I don\u2019t mean funny in a comedy way; I mean it more in a \u2018WTF\u2019 type of way. Before I<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2135,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2128","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2128","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2128"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2128\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2136,"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2128\/revisions\/2136"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/2135"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2128"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2128"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storieshub.xyz\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2128"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}