When a Good Day Brings Guilt
Grief and Joy…
share the same sky.
The first time I laughed after Gary died, I caught myself and stopped cold.
Something struck me funny and it just slipped out. A real laugh, before I could think. And then the guilt came rushing in. How could I laugh? How could anything be funny? He's gone.
Maybe you know that exact moment. The morning light looks a little softer. Your coffee tastes almost right again. You catch yourself humming. And for one second, something in you feels almost normal again. Then the guilt lands hard, and it turns a good moment into proof that you're doing something wrong.
That's the trap I want to get you out of today. The guilt is going to come. What matters is what you do with it once it does. Because right now, that guilt is probably winning, and it's costing you the few good moments you're starting to get back.
So here is the thing that changed it for me, and I think it can change it for you too. That flicker of feeling okay is love. It's the love you still carry for him, warming you back toward living. When you laugh, when the coffee tastes right, when you hum without thinking, that's the love doing its quiet work. It is the most natural thing in the world, and there is nothing in it to feel guilty about.
Knowing that is one thing. Using it in the moment is another. So here is what to actually do the next time a good moment comes and the guilt chases it.
First, notice the guilt instead of obeying it. When that voice says how dare you, see it for what it is. A reflex. You don't have to believe it. You just have to notice it showed up.
Then name what set the good feeling off. Say it plainly to yourself. I laughed at that show. The coffee tasted good. The sun felt warm on my face. Naming it makes it real, and it reminds you the good moment actually happened.
Then answer the guilt with one sentence. Out loud if you can. Of course I can still love him and laugh. That's the whole thing. You don't have to win a long argument. One true sentence is enough to loosen the guilt's hold.
Do that a few times, and something starts to shift. Not overnight. But it shifts. The guilt still shows up, and it stops running the show. The good moments stop costing you so much. And slowly, you get to keep them. The laugh, the warm coffee, the easy morning. They stay yours, instead of getting snatched away by shame two seconds after they arrive.
It's a life where the good moments and the missing him live side by side, and you get to have both. You can talk to him, miss him, cry, and laugh, all in the same day.
If life is starting to stir again and you're not sure what to do with it,
you don't have to figure it out alone. Schedule a free Holding the Ember call
whenever you're ready. We can talk about what it means to live again
while keeping your person close.