I’ll admit it. I’m the odd widow out.

It’s true when they say that there’s no right way to grieve. We simply go through the motions hoping to find some measure of comfort…something to dull the pain. Sometimes it’s exercise. Sometimes it’s medication. Sometimes, it’s just time. Time doesn’t heal your wound though. You just learn to live with a broken heart.

It been five years since I lost my spouse and I have to confess that hearing someone else talk about him still hurts me to my very soul. I know that’s strange when so many widows complain that it seems everyone has forgotten about their spouse. Not me.

Every mention of his name feels like my heart is being ripped open. I endured the pain for his mom, for his sister, for his family. They needed to talk about him, relive the happy memories. The times he made us laugh until our sides hurt. The times we shook our heads at his antics.

Each time I hear his name it reminds me of the day my world stopped in mid-rotation. That horrific moment when I felt trapped yet protected by my car as my father in law told me of his death. Though it’s been 1,929 days, sometimes it feels like day 1. Sometimes I don’t know how I’ve made it this far. How I continued to smile, love, find my joy again.

His name hurts. It’s not an “Oh, I miss him” pain. It’s the kind of pain I feel in my chest. Like I’m holding my breath and struggling for air. It’s my heart being ripped out and ripped apart all at once.

I wanted to talk about him on my terms. On those occasions, it didn’t hurt as much. I initiated the conversation and had quieted my heart and braced myself emotionally for the chat.

But something happened today that made me realize how in hiding behind that raw pain, I was missing out on the very best of husband.

Our niece, an up and coming artist, released new music from her forthcoming album. As I began listening to one song in particular, I tagged her on social media to let he know that I was starting the song and loved the intro. She replied, “You know who it’s about”.

As I listened, really listened, I realized she’d written the song for her uncle; my husband. The words were haunting and I immediately began bawling my eyes out.

But in my tears, I felt the profound impact he had on the lives of everyone he loved and those who love him. In not working through the pain of falling apart at the mere mention of his name, I had instead chosen to focus on his death. I had completely overlooked the way he lived.

He was kind, nurturing, supportive and loved us all fiercely. Everyone he met – even briefly – has a story worthy of sharing. But in my grief, I chose to block them out. I chose to let his death define his legacy, not the manner in which he lived each day.

I know his larger than life personality means there are tons of stories. Stories of his kindness. Stories of his silliness. Stories of his love. By not letting these stories in, I thought I was protecting my heart. The reality is, I was doing just the opposite.

Someone told me once that the widowed community can be selfish. We hold onto the memories of spouses so tightly that we don’t allow those not in the immediate circle to mourn his/her loss with us. That was my truth. Yes, he was my husband but he was also a son, a friend, a brother, a cousin, an uncle, a son in law. He was important and loved in each of these roles.

When I told our niece how beautiful the tribute was, she responded with the following message:

The song, “Stuck in Daydreams” was one that I had written a long time ago when he died and I couldn’t help but ask why it happened, of all people, why him? I decided because he had the most faith in me, and because he ensured me this was going to happen to me before I even knew it, I would dedicate a song to him on every one of my albums and EPs. That was his song. I hope with his same motivation on my heart, I go as far as he said I would and as God will allow me.”

I cried again. There were so many stories like this I missed out on because I was so stuck on his actual death. I thought wrongly that by hearing these memories – how he cared, how he loved – I would be reminded of what I’d lost. But Tian reminded me of why I loved. Why I still love him. Why I always will. How in talking about him, his legacy lives on. How in celebrating his life, I honor his memory.

It’s been one of the most important lessons I’ve learned along this grief journey!

Check out Tian’s touching tribute by clicking on the image below. Lyrics are provided as well:

As time goes by I think of you as you pop in my head
Don’t cry but I die inside… As I imagine you leaving.

Backtrack to the last, last time you told me you would come see me. And I… never thought it was a lie, I just thought you’d see it through at least.

Now what to say… I’m a blank page no words
Empty body… still filled with hurt.
Stuck in puzzles, I’m a lost piece…hoping one day you would find me and maybe you would tell me

Why did you leave me…stuck in this daydream…?
Got me itching with desire to go higher where you would be.
Why did you do this…? Left me so desperate…
Reaching as my hand just falls through…transparency it seems…
I’ll be stuck in this daydream.

Now reality just pulls and pulls and tells me that you’ve never left.
Stressing…you were a blessing; your voice I won’t forget it and Heaven’s the only place you rest.

But if that’s true why can I hear you with me everywhere I go?
My every sense receives every message…even the ones I can’t decode.

Immobile, body paralyzed can’t move.
Eyes wide open and I still have yet to find you…
My voice is trying to scream out your name!!! But I’m still in darkness, things are still the same…

Why did you leave me… stuck in this daydream..?
Got me itching with desire to go higher where you would be.
Why did you do this…? Left me so desperate…
Reaching as my hand just falls through… transparency it seems…
I’ll be stuck in this daydream.

It only takes a minute.
Life changes before you know it.
Sorrow replaces joy.
Happiness now is void.
Dark places like oceans, comatose, asleep and dreaming deeply.
Drowning in stress and deadly emotions TLC creepin’…
Upon you no chances but the ones you grant yourself…
To leave the stress behind then maybe time will tell
Your advice for living right
Your mind from dark to light
Overcame then now you’ve woke to another dream but fight…

Why did you leave me… stuck in this daydream..?
Got me itching with desire to go higher where you would be.
Why did you do this…? Left me so desperate…
Reaching as my hand just falls through… transparency it seems…
I’ll be stuck in this daydream.

Mom to a feisty preschooler, Kerry Phillips became widowed at age 32. She runs an online support group for young widows and widowers venturing back into the world of dating and is a blogger for The Huffington Post.