I know you didn’t sign up for this life.

I know you planned on your spouse being here to weather the storms of life with you.

He was supposed to be here for the first day of school and graduation, the weddings and the grandchildren.

He should be here, right now, to walk you through the health scare, to hold your hand as the doctor delivers the not-so-good news.

This isn’t the life you ordered. You want your husband back.

Unfortunately, death has closed that door.

It’s just not an option. You don’t get to have him back (not on this side of life).

Death came into your life whether through a prolonged illness, sudden death or a suicide and closed the door. There is no key, no lock and no magic button that can ever reopen that door.

I get there are days where you want to bang on the door. Beg to get to the other side. Plead your case for just another day, one more minute. Just to hear his voice, feel his touch, have him say you’re doing a great job or he’s proud of you.

But you can’t.

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Though the door is closed, I believe a light has been left on. That light pours out from under the door and through the crevices. It illuminates the darkness of our grief and guides us daily. It serves as a reminder of their love. And, while we can’t physically get to them, their love continues to shine brightly in our lives.

That light – their love – is there to strengthen us on the days when we feel like giving up. It guides us when we question if we’re capable of going it alone. It comforts us and can bring peace on the most chaotic of days.

My hope for you is that the need to get through that door lessens over time. That instead of wanting to get to that other side, you’ll simply stand in the light and bask in all its glory. That you’ll allow his love – the love you once shared – to wash over you and renew your spirit, recharge your resolve.

You lose so much by focusing on the door – the death – instead of the light – the love. Each minute you spend pining for “what was” takes you away from “what is”. Expecting an impossible outcome – the return of your husband – is self-sabotaging.

You will always miss your husband. It doesn’t matter if it’s 10 days of 10 years. However, time spent wishing for him to “come back” is wasted. Time lamenting that the wrong parent died is misspent.

There can be life after a loss – a beautiful one. The sadness will no doubt be part of your daily life but you can also choose to find the happiness in each day. When we pour our energy into “what if” scenarios and feed a thought that just isn’t an option, we take away from our present.

Don’t focus on the impossible for so long that you miss what is possible: happiness, strength, friendships, independence, perseverance, self-love, confidence, growth, bravery, compassion, love, healing, hope, resiliency, courage, progress and so much more.

Mom to a feisty preschooler, Kerry runs a support group for young widows and widowers venturing back into the world of dating and is a contributor to Open to Hope. Her articles on widowhood and grief have been featured in HuffPost and she was recently featured in the Moments of Clarity podcast.