The phone call. The worst day of my life.

How do I tell my three children, only 11, 8, and 3? This was supposed to be a trip that was to begin a new adventure for our family. The Saturday afternoon phone call came as a complete shock and could not possibly be true.

As I was trying to convince the doctor on the other end of the phone line that she was mistaken and had the wrong wife, she blurted out, “Your husband is dead.” My best friend, the father of my children, was gone.

The next few days, weeks, months were a blur. I had the most important decision of my life to make, curl up in my bed and stay there, or become the mom that my children were going to need. I knew the first choice was not an option.

Over the next few days, a plan began to fall in place. I let friends and family help me. I knew I could not do life on my own.

My church played a huge role in helping my family navigate this new journey. Meals were brought, yard work was done, repairs were made.

Friends and family would be there to help me when I was totally exhausted – and really did need that bed to curl up in! This was time that I used to regroup and look at the big picture. I knew we would be okay.

Our faith was strong and our support group remained strong. Every day I was having to reshape who I was – who I needed to be.

The word resilient didn’t come to my mind, but that was exactly what I was becoming, resilient.

I continue to have overwhelming gratitude for those who helped our family through the most difficult passage of our lives.

I kept friends and family close – our new journey had begun.