Grief is the final act of love and I’ll always be your wife.

Guest Written by Erin Burd

Early on a Wednesday morning, I received a call from my brother-in-law asking if I’d heard from my husband, Levi. Before I answered no, I remember thinking “what a strange question to ask this early”. And then, it hit me.

He knew something I didn’t.

He knew that there was a U-Haul involved in an accident just outside of town. He knew that Levi hadn’t shown up to work. He connected dots that I didn’t even know existed yet. I hung up the phone. I started a frantic search for the number of Sanford’s Emergency Room. Knocks at the door interrupted my search. I stopped in my tracks. I knew something was very wrong. With trembling hands, I opened the door. It was as if I was in a movie. Two patrolmen stood in front of me and I broke down the second I saw them. I anticipated bad news, but never did I expect what came next.

Levi was gone.

He was killed instantly by a high-speed, driver-side impact. He was driving the U-Haul for our cross-country move.

The shock that followed made me feel numb. I had to tell our boys that their daddy was in an accident and had passed away. We went from preparing for that cross-country move one day, to me feeling lost without my partner in a lonely world the next. Things changed so quickly and that defining day will remain etched in my memory forever.

The community we didn’t even know we had.

We had moved to a small temporary apartment and it became filled with overwhelming love from family. The next several weeks, I followed my family’s lead. I was numb and caring for 3 young children. I couldn’t believe the amount of support we were provided by not only family and friends but in our entire community. Out of this tragedy came stronger family bonds, tighter friendships, an abundance of love and a greater appreciation for our community. A community built upon layers of strength, support and kindness.

We are not moving on, we are moving forward.

Levi is still very much and will continue to be a strong presence in our lives. I’m learning to see his signs, and especially his mark on our family.

His smile is seen in the kids.
His curiosity is seen in Brennan.
His goofiness is seen in Bristol.
His thoughtfulness is seen in Bentley.

Levi is here.

Our flock has found a new bird house and are settling in. Levi has a place at our dining table, and he fills our house with memories. I’m learning how to keep our traditions going. I’m learning that I shouldn’t fill Levi’s shoes, but I should stand with him in spirit, providing the sense of security we so desperately need.

Although I wasn’t ready to be the fighter of the boogeyman, the protector from the rodents and bugs,the adventure seeker or the video game expert, I’ll gladly serve all those roles, if it means our kids feel safe and happy.

• Learn to see their signs and the mark they left on the family you both created.
• Keep traditions going, but do not try to fill their shoes.
• Don’t worry about trying to fill their shoes, but stand with them in spirit.

Don’t hide from the grief.

Nothing can prepare you for how to face a life-altering heartbreak. Three young children without their daddy. A wife without her husband and best friend. A family without their leader. How would I gather enough strength to continue to be a mother, friend, coworker and so much more? How do I find time for myself to grieve?

• Rely on loved ones to hold you up when needed.
• Don’t be ashamed to ask for time and space alone.
• Learn to be vulnerable. It is healthy for others to see you cry, you are human..
• Take it step by step; try to be present in every moment.

I’ve learned our kids are strong, very strong, so much so they seem to be holding me up a lot of the time, but I need to be forgiving and remember they are going through their own grief process. I’ve learned I shouldn’t be ashamed to ask for time and space. I’ve learned it’s okay to cry, and more importantly, for my kids to see me cry.

Grief is a crazy thing. It doesn’t come in one size or shape. It doesn’t care about time. It comes and goes as it pleases. What I’m realizing is that it’s how we take on those feelings and how we greet it when it comes knocking. Don’t hide from grief. Don’t be scared. Be vulnerable in these times and lean on others.

I can’t answer why. I can’t promise tomorrow. I can, however, do only my best in each passing moment, and share my love. I can be strong for our kids and adjust when I have moments of weakness. I can remain present for my friends and family and ask for help when I need it most.

We’re finding our way. We may be proceeding with caution, but we’re doing so with so much love for each other. We have so much appreciation for our time together and a new perspective on how to live each moment to its fullest; arm in arm, heart to heart, step by step.

XO,
Erin

This beautiful article was contributed by Erin Burd, an incredible soul whom lost her husband in 2019. She is a fierce mama, learning how to take new steps every day and create a new life for her family.