Holding On, Letting Go, Navigating the Roads of Life

As I lie in bed, unable to sleep, my mind races with thoughts on the paths I’ve walked with my children. We are approaching another time of transition and changing dynamics in our home.

We are in a new season of holding on and letting go, but this one feels different. Now, and for the rest of my days, I will face these changes without the support and love of my best friend, husband, co-parent, and kids’ father by my side.

I’m in the process of teaching one how to drive, preparing to let another one go, and remembering these same moments/transitions with my older two not too long ago.

It feels like just yesterday when I was teaching my soon-to-be-launched young lady to drive while also supporting her dad through stroke recovery and a terminal diagnosis, all while guiding my two oldest children who were attending college in another state.

I recall the times I dropped him off for therapy and treatment, sat in the car crying/catching my breath, and then gathered myself to move forward—to head back home to teach school lessons and be a support to those who were living on a college campus that felt a million miles away. Those moments were a whirlwind of emotions, trying to balance caregiving with guiding my children through their own milestones and grief. We were stuck in time and moving forward at the speed of light, all while I sat behind the wheel wondering, “How the heck did I get here? How do I keep going?”

Jon loved coming along for the ride in the backseat of the car after therapy while our “student” driver took us to various destinations as she practiced navigating the roads of life. Despite the challenges, we made the most of our time together, embracing life’s reality, however unplanned it was.

Living this dual reality—propelling life forward while preparing for loss—was both painful and profound. Watching my older children face the possibility of losing their dad while living their college lives was a complex journey of trusting, letting go and growing. Often it was with a white-knuckled determination we all kept going.

It still is.

In those moments, I often turned to the words of Christ: ‘Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me’ (Matthew 16:24). These words remind me that the journey of faith is not without its crosses, but it is through these very crosses that we draw closer to Jesus. Embracing our struggles, with faith and perseverance, is how we follow Him, even when the path is difficult and uncertain.

Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me’

Matthew 16:24

Grief, Trauma, Faith, Healing

Grief and trauma reveal themselves in unexpected ways. The process of learning to drive or preparing to launch my kids into the world often triggers memories of past pain. Bereavement, with its brief official recognition and the long, often misunderstood process of healing, can make it hard for others to grasp the depth of ongoing loss.

Losing my husband and the kid’s father at a young age touched every part of our lives, and the secondary losses are still unfolding. I’m learning to honor each emotion rather than trying to avoid the shattered pieces of my heart. Sometimes, it’s the unnoticed fragments that cause the most piercing pain, reminding me of what was lost.

I often reflect on those days, wondering how I managed to get through them. It’s a question that lingers as I continue to teach and prepare my children for their own journeys. I was never fully in control, and I still feel the impact of that reality. I am grateful for my faith and the Lord’s saving grace as I held tight to the foot of the cross.

The journey involves a lot of faith, and at times, letting go and trusting that God will guide us through.

Despite the challenges, I’ve learned that the best we can do is keep moving forward, one step at a time, with faith and hope.

As I navigate these moments, I’m reminded that life’s challenges—whether they come in the form of teaching a child to drive, letting go as we prepare for college drop-offs, or facing loss—are woven into the fabric of our stories. Each of us carries our own burdens, and it’s in these moments of vulnerability and uncertainty that we often find our greatest strength.

“If you really want to love Jesus, first learn to suffer, because suffering teaches you to love.

St. Gemma

Rough Road, Jesus Take the Wheel

Last year as I dropped my son back at school, changing our family dynamics once again, right after facing each day without my husband, I remember receiving a few messages that took me by surprise. They read like this: “Hey, you are going to have to give me all the pointers on how to prepare yourself to let go to send your kids off to college.”

Welp, the truth is, I didn’t really have much choice other than to trust and let go while I was caring for and supporting Jon getting from point A to point B and then doing my best to barely survive each day while praying with God’s grace my kids would be okay amid so much uncertainty.

Perhaps you, too, have found yourself in a place where the road ahead feels daunting, where you wonder how you’ll get through the next day, the next step. I want to encourage you to take a deep breath, trust in the journey, and know that you’re not alone. Even when it feels like you’re barely holding on, remember that there is grace for each moment, and you are equipped with everything you need to keep moving forward.

We don’t always get to choose the paths we walk or the roads we take, but we do get to choose how we respond to them. Let’s choose to face each challenge with courage, to find the small blessings in the midst of hardship, and to lean on faith when the way is unclear even if you white-knuckle your way down the road.

In these moments, I find comfort in the words of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross: ‘One can only gain a scientia crucis (knowledge of the cross) if one has thoroughly experienced the cross. I have been convinced of this from the first moment onwards and have said with all my heart: “Ave, Crux, Spes unica” (I welcome you, Cross, our only hope).’ This journey of suffering has not only brought pain but also a deeper knowledge of the cross—a knowledge that offers hope, even in the darkest moments. It’s through this experience that I continue to find the strength to hold on and let go, trusting in God’s plan.

As you reflect on your own story, may you find comfort in knowing that every step you take—no matter how difficult—brings you closer to healing, growth, and the person you’re becoming. And may you always remember that in the hardest moments, you are never truly alone. God is with you, guiding your steps, giving you grace and mercy, just as He has guided mine.

A Prayer

May you find the strength to navigate the winding roads of life with grace and courage.

May you lean on your faith, trusting that God is with you in every step you take, even in the moments of deepest uncertainty.

May you discover small blessings in the midst of hardship, and may you be filled with the peace that surpasses all understanding.

May you remember that in the hardest moments, you are never truly alone. God’s love is ever-present, guiding you, sustaining you, and surrounding you with His grace and mercy.

May you hold onto hope, knowing that each challenge you face is shaping you into the person God has called you to be.

May your journey be filled with moments of healing, growth, and profound love, and may you always find comfort in the knowledge that you are deeply cherished by your Creator. Amen.

Thank you for walking this journey with me. I pray that my story has touched your heart and that it encourages you in your own journey.