July 2025 – Not what I’d planned – An update from Michelle.

Well hello everyone! I thought I’d better post an update of what the heck has been happening in my life since returning from Session 1 in NSW of the Australian Rural Leadership Program, and explain my recent quietness in grief social media updates and content posting…. which I love!

Firstly, if you are squeamish, this may be a little uncomfortable to read. But it has been my reality….

Over the last few years, my heart, soul, time and energy has gone into Grief Connect. And as many of us do, we wear many different hats, so whilst I’ve been the Founder of Grief Connect, I’ve also been a Mum, Partner, Daughter, Friend and Farmer (the list goes on) behind the scenes. Many of these hats, mean that there is a level of self determination, choice and control to what happens in life. In saying this, grief and experiencing the death of my loved ones, certainly has reminded me that along life, that we as mere humans, are not in full control over what happens to us.

Our physical health is one aspect of this, that we don’t have full control over. And when our bodies go down, we quite often are forced into situations where we need to take a break, step back and re-evaluate where we are putting our time.

Multi-tasking like a boss is not an option when the body says “no” and physical energy levels are depleted. My ability to multi-tasking recently is something that I have been forced to reflect on, and that though I like to think I can do it all, all the time, that is not a realistic expectation.

My experience throughout 2025, up until the last month has been that my body started shouting at me that it was not going OK. At first I thought it was all gut health related. I did have a gut health problem, that was remedied, but after this, I still kept feeling pains in the high area of my upper abdomen that I knew were saying something isn’t right.

After further testing and an MRI, it showed that I had a black spot in my uterus (turns out a benign fibroid), and possibly adenomyosis  (worth a google search for more information), and so I was referred to another specialist to find out what was going on.

So just recently, I had surgery, to check out what was really going on in there and treat what needed to be treated. I’m still waiting for the full results, but I underwent treatment and had the cyst removed. 

Having treatment and an internal body part removed certainly knocked me around. But the good news is that I am now on the other side of it and healing is well underway.

What I’ve been surprised by in the last few weeks is that so many of my female friends who I have spoken to about my experience have had these symptoms and needed treatments.  I’m sharing all of this because I strongly believe that our physical health, no matter our gender, is something worth talking about more. Because like grief, if we don’t speak about it and just hold it all in, we can end up feeling isolated or disconnected or dealing with it in not so healthy ways, or simply stay unwell.

The best news out of this  is that I am already feeling that the pain I’ve experienced in 2025 feels to be relieved. This is the really exciting part for me!! Finally, a diagnosis and treatment. Also, many of my fears of being unwell and dying (yes, a very common theme for many widowed people) have also been relieved.

For years I have experienced pain associated with physical health – women’s business pains, but also just put it down to being “a woman” and it being “a part of life”. So I’ve just managed the aches and pains and kept it too myself. I wish I had pushed myself and accessed medical care earlier, and not just dismissed what my body was trying to tell me. So, all I can say, is if something in your body isn’t feeling right, no matter your gender, go and get it checked and don’t stop until you have answers. 

In the meantime, there is now a huge backlog of widowed people requesting to join the Grief Connect Young and Over 55s widowed support groups, that I have started the administration and checks for, but this takes time. So if you have requested to join, please know that I’m onto it!

The groups continue to run beautifully and I’m so proud of how our members hold space for each other in peer support and with huge respect. A massive shout out to all group members, your support and real, human compassion towards each other that I read in your posts is meaningful beyond words.

So… what’s next now that I’m on the mend?? Well, I can now share that the launch of my latest Grief Connect online resource is just around the corner.

“After the Funeral – the Unspoken Next Steps” – is on it’s way! 👀 Keep an eye out this week!!

This guide has been a long time in the making. It brings together both my lived and professional experience to offer gentle, practical guidance for those navigating decisions, processes, tasks and services after the funeral of your loved one.

Many of which we are not prepared for (like I wasn’t), or have experience with. The Unspoken Next Steps guide is full of trusted information to consider, with direct links to helpful and accessible services.

So, I’m happy to say that I’m back on socials in full—with Grief Connect services rolling on steadily.
Counselling, widowed support groups, and The Grief Language Project Education Program all continuing with dedication and purpose.

Thank you for being part of the Grief Connect journey and following here on socials.
Your support—and our shared commitment to walking alongside those navigating grief—continues to shape every program.

Always more to come!!

With Love and Care,

Michelle Moriarty

If you are widowed and need connection and understanding from people who just “get it,” support is available right here: http://www.griefconnect.com.au/services/widowed-support-groups

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.