My tears have fallen every day for the past two years. A minute here and a moment there add up to a lot of tears. They come without warning, a wave of sadness and grief, and then I sigh, wipe them away, and carry on. Despite the weight of my sorrow, I have never stopped searching for positive and sensible answers. Learning to overcome grief has been a journey that is filled with setbacks, realizations, and growth. After two years, I can finally say, I am on the right track! Let me share some of the lessons I’ve learned along the way.

 

Overcome Grief and Weather Life’s Storms

As many of you know, my challenges have been immense. My ultimate concierge has been battling dementia. At the same time, I have faced the heartbreak of estrangement from my immediate family. I never imagined I would take on the roles of caregiver and sole manager of our finances. Yet here I am, navigating these uncharted waters. And after much trial and error, I am beginning to emerge victorious.

Now, as April arrives, I find myself wondering: How can I fill my cup with positivity? The earth is growing greener, the sun shines brighter, and as a devoted lover of Nature, I want to follow her lead. Each challenge I have faced has tested me and I haven’t run, but rather stood firm in the storm, determined to find solutions. The journey was exhausting, and at times, I felt like I was drowning. I made mistakes (sometimes the same ones over and over) and I would berate myself for days. But I kept going.

The hardest lesson? Learning to do it all alone. For years, my husband and I shared responsibilities. Now, the weight rests entirely on my shoulders. I have become the decision-maker, the problem-solver, the caregiver, the financial manager, and the emotional backbone of our home. It has been daunting, overwhelming at times, and yes, there were days I questioned whether I could manage it all. But I have proven to myself that it is possible. With each challenge faced and every new skill learned, I’ve discovered a quiet resilience within me. I am still the loving wife and nurturing woman I’ve always been, but now, I carry a strength I never knew I had.

Breaking the Glass Ceiling

Women of my generation did not aspire to break the “glass ceiling.” It was an invisible barrier that prevented us from stepping into leadership roles or claiming our independence outside the traditional roles of wife, mother, and caregiver. We were taught to nurture, to support, and to quietly hold everything together behind the scenes. Times have changed, and so have I. Over these past two years, through immense personal challenge, I have cracked my own glass ceiling, not with loud protest, but with perseverance, grace, and grit.

What have I learned? That I can still be loving and nurturing when the moment calls for it. When it doesn’t, I must think with my mind, not my heart. I must stand tall in my truth, set boundaries, and make decisions that protect my well-being.

“To thine own self be true.” -Shakespeare

Those words are no longer just a quote, but a compass that guides my every step. I am still the very feminine Susan “Honey” Good. I still wear lipstick, I still love a beautiful table setting, and I still lead with love. Now though, I carry something new within me, a quiet strength. A strength that feels like the wind blowing through my hair on a beautiful April day. A strength rooted in clarity and self-trust.

Darling, are you living authentically? Are you listening to your inner voice (the one that whispers when the world gets loud)? If you hesitate, if you feel a flicker of doubt, it’s time to pause and take stock of your life. Reclaim your power, define your happiness and start living on your terms with grace, with courage, and above all, with authenticity.

The Role of Caregiver

I have always known the truth of the saying, “Growing older is not for sissies.” We all know that illness will eventually touch someone we love, but nothing can prepare us for the moment it arrives.

Last week, I texted a friend: “I am my husband’s caregiver, but I am also his forever soulmate.” His response struck me:

“Even though you have hired a caregiver and Shelly is your soulmate, YOU are his caregiver!”

Of course, I knew that, but hearing it reaffirmed what I already felt. Being a caregiver is all-consuming. I manage my husband’s medication, therapy, meals, and doctor’s appointments. I ensure he drinks enough water, monitor his weight and blood pressure, and make medical decisions. Every detail falls to me.

Take Control and Overcome Grief

Learning to advocate for him was not easy. I had to push doctors for appointments and answers, learn when to call for in-depth discussions (late afternoons are best, I’ve discovered) and overcome my fear of asking the same question repeatedly until I understood. But in the process, I earned the respect of his doctors.

I have finally taken control of the household and financial responsibilities that once belonged to my husband. It has been a steep learning curve, but I am doing it. In my next Sunday Story, I will share what I have learned. HINT: I broke through the glass ceiling!

Also, I learned difficult financial lessons. I no longer pay caregivers in cash because it’s dishonest, and without a signed 1099 tax form, I cannot claim my husband’s medical expenses.

Before hiring anyone, I make my expectations clear. They must sign a 1099, provide personal references, use public transportation (I no longer cover parking fees– thank you, CPA, for that wisdom!) and most importantly: My husband is their primary responsibility, not their phone!

Darling, over the past year, I have learned to speak up, set boundaries, and care for myself. As I break my glass ceiling, the wind rushes through, reminding me, once again, to be true to myself.

Overcome Grief of Estrangement

The deepest wound, the one that never fully heals, is estrangement. My daughters have buried me while I am still alive. I have missed cheering on my grandchildren, and they have missed knowing their grandmother. For years, I was paralyzed by grief. There are no words to describe the pain.

One day, a wise woman told me, “You will find love elsewhere.”

At the time, I didn’t understand. But slowly, a light flickered. I realized that what I missed was not just my family, but the feeling of love. Another woman advised me to “Surrender to their toxicity.” At first, I saw surrender as weakness, but then I understood: Surrendering did not mean giving up! It meant choosing to replace a poisoned stream with fresh, flowing water.

These realizations have helped me heal, though I know I will never fully recover.

I am not alone in this grief. In my private Facebook group for estranged mothers and grandmothers (this community has grown to 21,000 women without a single advertisement) the numbers continue to rise. Every day, more women join, each carrying the same invisible wound. Estrangement is an epidemic of silent suffering, a heartbreak that society rarely acknowledges. There are no sympathy cards for the mother whose child has turned away, no casseroles delivered to the grandmother mourning the loss of a grandchild’s laughter. Instead, we grieve in isolation, left to navigate the unspoken pain of being cut off from those we once held closest.

In our shared sorrow, we have found something precious– each other. Within this community, we lift one another up, offering understanding where the world offers none. We remind each other that while the loss is deep, so too is our capacity to heal, to find love elsewhere, and to reclaim our joy.

Hope: The Light That Guides Me in the Storm

Some mornings, I stand by my window on the 71st floor, gazing out at Lake Michigan and it reminds me of the Pacific. The vastness, the movement, the endless horizon– it all mirrors the waves of my emotions and I wonder: How will I keep surviving so many storms at once? How will I overcome grief and rise above the responsibilities and the loneliness? The answer is always the same.

Hope.

There are days when grief suffocates me, wrapping itself around my heart like an iron grip. To overcome grief feels impossible in those moments because grief is the hardest emotion to bear. Grief only touches those who love deeply and love is the strongest force of all. Even in my darkest moments, I remind myself:

“I hold tight to hope because hope propels me forward. Hope lifts me from despair. Hope is my guiding light.”

Amen, Amen.