When you reflect on the biggest life changing circumstances you’ve experienced, how long did it take before things felt normal again? Or, how long did it take to adjust?

July 6, 2025 was the five year anniversary of my husband’s passing; October 1 will mark the five year anniversary since I sold my house and moved to my current small city.

Decades ago in the midst of my social work career, I participated in specialized training from a therapist in Toronto. I remember her making sure we understood that for blended families it would take five years to consolidate “step” relations to the equivalency of biological relationships. (I have close relatives who will voice objections after reading this. Their blended family experience was relatively seamless. I might even get flack for using the word “relatively.” But they were the exception.)

Major life changes converged for me; I retired to have more time to care for my husband. He passed, and “widow” became both a label and a description of me–whether I could relate to it or not. (I couldn’t.) I sold my house and moved because I was burnt out from care-taking and the yard-work felt like another exhausting responsibility. At the time, I wasn’t entirely certain these decisions were for the best, but choices had to be made.

I’ve always said I like my bandaids ripped off quickly. Give me the bad news, the punishment, the whatever, but let’s get it done and over with. That philosophy might work when it is a physical bandaid, but emotions, such as grief, take time, space and processing. 

I like to say, “Hindsight is a smug know-it-all,” because, looking back over these last five years, I can see I was pushing myself to get through those difficult times just to get on with my life–the classic mistake of “trying too hard.”

In the summer of 2023 my nephew died suddenly and way too soon. In an odd way, this tragedy helped me move on in a healthier fashion. Grieving his death, and grieving for my family, brought back unfinished business–if that possibly makes sense. I stopped rushing the process and took all the time I needed.

Moving on is part of the deal we make in exchange for the privilege of being on this planet. I’m living a very different life than if my husband were still alive and healthy. It has taken five years for my circumstances to feel “normal” but they finally do. This is who I am now and it’s okay that it took time.

Keep your joy.

Anne Milne is an every Sunday blogger, unless it’s a holiday weekend. Or summertime.