TAPS and the Evolution of Grief

It’s been almost 15 years since my husband was killed by a suicide bomber in Afghanistan. Some days, I still find myself expecting him to return from deployment. With every new milestone our children reach — every passing anniversary, birthday, and holiday — his absence is sorely felt anew. Yet our loss does not stop life from continuing its forward march. Survivors have no choice but to pick up the pieces of broken hearts and continue moving with them. The journey begins with acute pain, but eventually settles into more of a chronic ache. The weight of grief never lightens. But, like all weight training, with time, we grow strong enough to carry it more easily. 

The more time that passes, the more life takes on a new normal. The journey brings new joys and challenges. I have remarried and been blessed to raise six children, having given birth to only three. But my current husband will never be able to take the place of my late husband in my heart. This kind of triadic relationship can be difficult but not impossible to navigate. I am able to truly love another because the heart just somehow miraculously expands to make room for new love. Having lost his wife to cancer, thankfully, he understands grief and isn’t threatened when it rears its ugly head in our lives. This is critical for me personally because, though I am Jack’s wife, I will forever be David’s widow. There must be room for both. 

Room for Growth
Similarly, TAPS has provided space for the evolution of my grief. The support network and resources provided right after David’s death were invaluable. At a time when I could barely remember to eat regularly, their phone calls came at just the right moment to remind me I wasn’t on this new journey alone, and I needed to take care of myself. 

Further down the road, the retreats provided a point of connection with other survivors and a chance to disconnect from the madness of everyday life — a chance to just be. TAPS trained me to be a mentor to my peers and pour into others, just as others had poured into me.

But in the last few years, the recurring seminars in our region are TAPS’ current lifeline to our family. My children, very little when their father died, have reached their teen and young adult years. They now experience grief in a more tangible way, despite the lapse of time. Their grief was perhaps delayed by their youth, but it is no less valid, and it deserves to be experienced. TAPS welcomed them with open and accepting arms. They empowered them to be a light to their peers, as ambassadors of hope and resilience. The yearly regional seminar has become like a “family reunion” for my children, their friends, and their mentors. Our youngest graduates from Good Grief Camp this year and cannot wait to trade her red shirt for a purple one as she becomes a Legacy Mentor. 

TAPS Understands
For me, everyday life now shows little evidence of my widowhood aside from the black memorial bracelet that never leaves my arm and the scar forever on my heart. I must, for the sake of those I love, compartmentalize grief and carry on as Heather Blalock. But, for one weekend a year, I get to be Heather Gray — the widow of an amazing man who died serving the country and uniform he loved, defending a way of life he wanted all to have. TAPS understands the need for a safe place to let my guard down and feel all the things without those around me worrying I’m about to go off the rails. 

Now, at seminars, I mostly sit quietly and reflect, cry, and pray for those around me whose grief is clearly fresh. Their journey is just beginning. I have attended all the workshops and shared the many “God Winks” I’ve been blessed to experience. The black shirts know me by name. But I will continue to proudly wear the giant badge with ribbons and a button bearing my David’s handsome face. It’s one way to keep the memory and legacy of my late husband alive. More than anything, it's so good for my heart to have a place where it’s appropriate to express my enduring love even after all these years. 

Perhaps for some, grief eventually dissolves. For those like me, grief evolves, and I’m grateful TAPS has been there for every step of the process. 

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Influencing Change for All Survivors
Just as TAPS provides space for you to grow with your grief, we also empower you to use your voice to spark change and advance policy and legislation that impacts you, your fellow survivors, and those who will one day walk this path. Learn more and get involved.

PHOTOS:  TAPS Archives, Heather Gray Blalock