“You’re Gonna Make it ‘Cause You Gotta Make It.”

Decades ago, when I was a young mother with two little daughters, the Air Force sent my husband to Vietnam. A flight surgeon, he was commander of a base hospital in the central highlands. He was gone for a year, and during that year I grieved for him immensely. My anticipatory grief became worse as the months passed. Each day, I wondered if this would be the day men in uniform would appear at the door to tell me my husband was killed in action.

To keep my mind occupied, I took a part-time teaching job at a church school. The school let my daughters come for free and the children in my class made me laugh. Their questions also made me think. Writing lesson plans was a joy, and every teaching day was a joy as well. But I must admit, there were days when grief got the best of me.

The school custodian knew my husband was in Vietnam. One day, as he was sweeping the floor, he asked, “How are you?”

“Well, some days I don’t think I’m going to make it,” I replied, holding back tears. The custodian stopped sweeping, rested his hands on the top of the broom handle, and looked me straight in the eyes.

“Ms. Hodgson,” he began in a deep Southern drawl, “you’re gonna make it ‘cause you gotta make it.’ What a wise reply. Since then, I’ve thought of his reply many times, and thought of it in 2007 when my daughter, mother of our twin grandchildren, father-in-law, brother, and the twins’ father died in succession. The twins’ parents died in separate car crashes and the court appointed my husband and me as their guardians.

As before, I wondered if I would survive this dark time of life. Believing I was going to make it changed my thinking and can change yours. In many ways, it is a statement of self-confidence, a way of saying “I can do this.” This statement acknowledges the life skills you have, the new skills you will acquire on your grief journey, and your inner strength.

Deep as my grief was in 2007, I knew I had to make it for my grandkids, my husband and main source of support, the family members who loved me, and the friends who rallied to help me. Most important, I had to make it for myself. So what happened?

The twins lived with us for seven years and graduated from high school and college with higes honors. My husband, a semi-retired physician, quit working to manage the twins’ finances and court documents. Time passed and the four of us became a family. I’m a freelance health/wellness writer, and the focus of my work shifted to grief healing. Day-by-day, step-by-step, I created a new and happy life for myself.

I share this story to give you hope. Bleak as your life seems how, believing in yourself and the idea that you will survive, can become a wellspring of strength. Though you can’t change what happened, you can control your responses to it. Accept help from family and friends. Get some grief counseling if you think you need it. Join a grief support group. Document your feelings in a journal. Take credit for every baby step you take on the grief recovery path. You will make it. Believe this and make it so.