He Saw ME - Love After Loss - Michelle and Ross

He Saw ME – Love After Loss. Michelle and Ross.

I founded Grief Connect® – after becoming a young widow, at 38 and then experiencing the death of my Dad. These huge losses, separately, changed my life and the trajectory of where I was going.

It’s been scary beyond words. For large pieces of time, I couldn’t see a future. I couldn’t see through even to the next day.

Time kept moving forward, I kept pushing through the days of darkness, and slowly light started to filter back in.

Along the way, a handsome and kind man called Ross, came into my life. We have a great story to tell of being together when were 17, but I’ll save that for my book!

Ross knew my situation, I was widowed, grieving, and had life hurdles that were different from non-widowed people at age 38.

What was really special, is that despite the label of “widow” that I carried and the stigma that that label can have – he saw ME.

Ross saw Michelle Moriarty. And just Michelle Moriarty.

Raw. Authentic. Unfiltered. Unapologetic. Vulnerable. Me.

The 38 year old who loved a bit of sarcasm, who loved the outdoors, who loved company, camping, fishing, swimming. Who loved her family immensely. Who loved her kids and also his kids. Who was stubborn and impatient at times (ok probably a lot lol).

Who was a proud social worker, wanting to help everyone and make the world a better place, and who loved him intensely – finding all his jokes hilarious and who just like him – embraced everything about being Aussie and a little bit bogan.

He saw Michelle Moriarty as the Founder of Grief Connect®. He was not insecure about my ‘why’ or my purpose, and instead embraced my efforts to roll out grief and bereavement support services for grieving Australians.

For those of you who have followed my journey on socials, Ross has been backing me with Grief Connect® work and events, whether from a distance or changing out of worn farm clothes to looking sophisticated wearing a fancy suit!!! Honestly, what a bloody LEGEND!!!

So, we took each other’s hand, made a commitment to each other to “give it a go” and started walking forward through life together.

We didn’t know what to expect, apart from we were committed to each other. And hang the heck on!

We’ve walked through thick and thin. It’s not always been sunshine and roses and we’ve experienced great losses together.

“Together” being the operative word.

We have embraced life, and in each year we’ve experienced great achievements together. We make an effort to support each other, and talk it through, even if we don’t agree. And we celebrate each other, with kind words and reminders of the wonderful things we see in each other.

So, of course, I said YES when Ross asked me to marry him a while back. We gave it great consideration about how to wed, but decided that we would elope.

A simple ceremony on our farm was held in November.

We kept it a secret – and boy that was so hard to keep our mouths shut, especially from our kids!!

My Mum and Ross’ Dad signed us off as witnesses and be present whilst we said our vows of life long commitment to each other.

OK… yes… we both cried.. a lot! And no doubt our photos of us will be full ugly crying lol… but it was so special and it warms my heart to recall those moments.

We have now shared this elopement with our family and friends – and we are so pleased that everyone is so happy for us.

My dear friend Belinda had written to me “You guys are wonderful together and it shows in the everyday interactions and the way you guys share your lives and engage with everyone around you”.

That really means a lot.

Life can be harsh, but what I’ve found is that life can still be kind.

And it’s worth holding onto that.

If you’ve read this far, you will know that I’m passionate about supporting widowed people — both young and over 55 — through free peer support groups as they navigate grief and the challenges of repartnering. These services save lives and create hope, but to keep them going I need strong partners who believe in the power of community care.

I’m looking for funding to continue this mission. If you have a model that offers funding, it would be fantastic to hear from you. By partnering with Grief Connect®, you’re helping build resilience and ensuring no widowed person has to walk this journey alone.

Please email me at michelle@griefconnect.com.au to explore how we can work together.

So here is the write up from me and my share for International Widows Day: Widowhood is grief, and one of the deepest forms of grief a person can ever experience. It is a type of grief that I would never wish on my worst enemy. It is unfathomable to explain just how horrendous, devastating and lonely widowhood grief can feel. Yesterday, I did not write this blog like I had planned originally, because I was out spending time with one of my children. And let me tell you, as a widowed parent, I have spent most of my early widowhood feeling like I was the shittiest parent ever.

Firstly, because suddenly I was doing a job that I never signed up to do on my own. What a joke that was. It was supposed to be two of us. Nathan and I – riding the rollercoaster of parenting together. He was supposed to be alive and keep working as a parenting team alongside me.

Secondly, because even though I tried my best throughout all of my parenting, it was not always great. My children were not only managing their own grief, but they were also experiencing their mother’s grief. At times it as not pretty and was damned right ugly at times. I’m not proud of that.

My window of tolerance very small with irritability and impatience a go to in my mothering survival. I know what they have seen is a mum who has struggled with grief missing their Dad (and Step Dad). They have had a mum who has not ticked all the boxes of being a perfect parent. But lets face it… that’s a load of rubbish as there is no such thing as a perfect parent, only an ideal.

As a young widowed parent, I was forced to be questioning how I was going to continue find ways to keep feeding my children? How was I going to keep a roof over our heads long term? Could we stay living in our family home? Because one half of the household income is no longer there to pay the bills and Maslow’s hierarchy of basic needs was under threat. Because there is no crisis widowed payment from Centrelink (another issue for another write up) and it’s walking away from Centrelink with no support and in deep grief after asking for help with a “too bad, so sad” response.

Let me tell you that the feeling of not knowing if you can keep your house, some kind of continuing lifestyle for your kids, or how you are going to pay the car registration and many other bills that keep arriving, is absolutely terrifying and only serves to compound grief missing your person.

And that is just scratching the surface of what widowhood is about. Because when our person dies, our entire life turns into something we do not recognise, do not know, did not ask for, and never wanted. Within this deep grief, we are forced to continue pushing through to the next day. But quite often, that is too much. People wanting to help around make statements of good intent and say “just get through the next day”… NO. This is about getting through the next hour or the next minute. It is survival mode at it’s purest.

Yes, time has gone on for me. I never thought it would. But here we are, me writing, you reading, 8 years after Nathan died. My life has changed immensely in ways that I never thought possible. And also, as a widow, when I have days like yesterday, where I am functioning and multitasking like a boss again, and also spending quality time with my kids, that has to be celebrated, and means that it’s OK to write this blog a day late.

To non-widowed parents, yesterday, might have seemed like just another average day. Just another day of doing routine tasks. But for me, and for many widowed people out there, it is an achievement in grief, and in life. Maggie Dent, an incredible Parenting Expert advocates that ‘You just have to be a good parent 30-40% of the time’ on her “Good Enough Parent” podcast. So, yesterday, as a widowed parent, to be able to get through the day and feel like a “good enough parent” is something worth celebrating and I’m high fiving myself. I know Nathan would be high fiving me right back from the heavens. So I’ll take that and embrace it.

Because the reality is that for many widowed people, we can lower those percentage numbers… because running on empty and still making it to the end of the day.. or the end of the hour in one piece and only ‘just’ functioning is a huge achievement when experiencing deep grief.

To all of my widowed friends and peers out there who are pushing hard though each day, please know that you are freaking amazing. Huge credit to you for arriving at this point in time, right now. You are doing great, even though it doesn’t feel like it. I see you. Remember that you are not alone.

Celebrate the small wins. And remember that although it might not feel like it, there is hope and there is a future ahead.

As we move into the day after International Widows’ Day, others may move forward, but we remember.

We live being widowed every single day.

If you know someone who is widowed and grieving, please let them know about the Grief Connect® Community. A space for grief to be shared and supported by peers in live online conversations and posts. Access the community by clicking the button below.