Healing After Loss
"Illness is the night-side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick."
—Susan Sontag
🧭 The Kingdom I Now Inhabit
Susan Sontag's words resonate deeply within me. I know what it means to live in the kingdom of the sick. I've lived with pain that doesn't go away and fatigue that sleep doesn't fix.
And now, I live in the kingdom of the grieving. But these kingdoms do not own me. They are where I dwell for now—but not forever.
Somehow, even in the hardest places, there is beauty to be found. Even if it's just the love behind a tear, or the strength it takes to keep going one more day.
🛌 Exhaustion, Illness, and the Weight of Grief
Today I hit my limit. The physical toll of packing, bending, and climbing the stairs left me aching from head to toe. My SI joint flared. My costochondritis brought chest pain. It was hot and humid—too hot for someone like me who doesn't do well in the heat.
I barely made it halfway up the stairs before I had to stop. Sit. Breathe. Cry.
Bryce found me and helped me up, just like his father would have. And that's when the real weight hit—not just the boxes, not just the pain, but the absence.
🧺 A Blanket and a Breakdown
Later, while folding laundry, I came across Mark's blanket, which had been handmade by his grandmother. It's old, fragile, and falling apart. But it held memories. Love. Comfort. And strangely, it is still warm. I folded it gently, then clutched it tight and sobbed. My body had nothing left to give. And the one who always carried the load for me is no longer here.
Mark always did the heavy work when my injuries kept me down. He made life easier. And now, with Bryce shouldering the hardest parts, I'm still left facing my own limitations. I hate illness. I hate feeling weak. But this is my reality.
🪡 The Fabric of a Life
As I held Mark's blanket, I realized how something so worn could still hold so much strength. The stitches were loose. The fabric frayed. But it carried the scent of old memories—of safety, of family, of his grandmother's love.
I pressed my face into it and sobbed—not just for Mark, but for every time he picked me up when life knocked me down. He wasn't just strong physically. He was steady emotionally, spiritually. He made me feel safe.
Even now, in the silence of this room, that blanket reminded me that love doesn't leave us. It lingers—in cloth, in gestures, in the hearts of those who carry us when we can no longer stand.
🕊️ A Reflection on Death and Vulnerability
Today's Healing After Loss reminded me of something deeply personal:
Death makes us vulnerable. It brings us face-to-face with our own mortality.
When someone close to us dies, we don't just mourn their absence—we also confront the mirror they leave behind. That whisper: "You, too."
The questions come:
Will I see them again?
Is there more than this life?
Will I still be me?
We don't have all the answers. But we do have this day.
📆 Living as a Citizen of This Day
I am, as today's meditation says, a citizen of this day.
Tomorrow will bring its own demands. Its own gifts. But for today—this hot, tear-filled, painful day—I choose to breathe. I choose to fold blankets, cry when I must, and find strength in the small things. A son's helping hand. A quiet room. A faithful God who knows what it means to suffer and to love.
To those who are hurting today—body, heart, or both—you are not alone. We live this day together. One breath. One burden. One grace at a time.
With love and understanding,
Dyan Bertha Fiorentino
🕊 Surviving Grief, Still Standing
📚 Dyan’s Resources
🕊️ Free 7-Day Grief Journal
Begin your healing journey with seven gentle prompts and reflections.
👉 Download here
📖 365-Day Grief Journal
A faith-based companion for navigating loss—one day, one breath at a time.
👉 Available on Amazon
🎥 Healing Video Series on Flip
Watch daily reflections on grief and healing.
👉 flip.shop/dyanfiorentino
💗 Support My Mission on Ko-fi
Help me continue creating grief support tools and resources.
👉 ko-fi.com/dyanfiorentino
📖 Source: Hickman, Martha W. “Healing After Loss.” HarperCollins, p. 221.
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