By Frosty Wooldridge
10-5-26

Early English defined the word “grief” as physical hardship, suffering, or a heavy burden.

“Sorrow” stems from intense suffering from loss of a loved one.

“Despair” is a deep, overwhelming sense that a situation is hopeless and cannot improve.

Bereaved means “to be torn apart.”  To be deprived of a loved one through death.

On February 18, 2026, at 6:00 p.m., after seven years battling with Alzheimer’s Disease, my wife Sandi, the love of my life, died in my arms. Since that moment, I have struggled daily through my anguish, my pain, and my deep sorrow to regain my life and re-engage with life.  At first, I wished I could join her in death. I would go to bed at night hoping I would not wake up.  Alas, here it is nearly eight months later, and I’m still alive…trying to figure out the “why” of her being picked out for that cruelest of diseases.  After attending “grief” groups at church, I am one among millions to lose a loved one. The reality is: death of a loved one happens to just about everyone on this planet.

Additionally, after much research, over 4,000,000 families in America suffer from one of their loved ones being afflicted by Alzheimer’s Disease.  Millions more suffer from Parkinson’s, and ALS.  Each disease destroys the body’s ability to function. All of those persons will die, and their family members will suffer untold misery, hurt, pain and anguish.

Alzheimer’s reduced Sandi from a vibrant, vital, beautiful and energetic woman…to a skeleton of 85 pounds, face destroyed, mind vanished, and barely able to walk. Her death that night will play on my mind for the rest of my life. My heart broke into a million pieces of despair, sorrow and grief.

My journey has caused me to cry a bathtub full of tears. I can’t sleep because my mind rolls around all night with what happened to her.  My journey has felt desperate to regain meaning in my life.  How do I find meaning when the very essence of my life was  Sandi?  We were a fabulous team, fabulous dancers, fabulous travelers, and we laughed a lot.

One thing happened during this period: my empathy levels for those who lose loved ones has gone up 1,000 percent. I know the unimaginable suffering going on for those who lose a loved one in an accident, from cancer, from a heart attack, from drugs, from alcohol and other forms of death.  Loss of a pet ranks up there in pain and anguish.

In the morning, I reluctantly awaken to face the day.  Oftentimes, I ask, “Why Sandi? Why me? Why us?”  We lived good, kind, moral, ethical lives. We were madly in love for 32 years. On the dance floor, she was my Rita Hayworth and Ginger Rogers rolled into one.

On the morning of her death, I had finished her usual 30 minute massage. I pulled her up when she blurted, “I like you.”  Note that she spoke almost nothing for two years. Those were her last words on this earth.  I replied, “I love you with all my heart, Sandi.”  And, I hugged her.  Each night before dinner, I would slow dance with her in the kitchen. She loved the closeness. We danced to Elvis Presley’s “Can’t help falling in love with you.”

So now, I am left without Sandi.  I’ve been told in my “Grief Group” at church that I will never get over losing Sandi.  “You’ll just get used to it…you must move forward with your memories of Sandi and the pain of losing her.”  No matter how many pictures of us on the refrigerator, she’s not coming back.

How do I feel?  TOTALLY LOST!

At the same time, friends have given me books to read. None of them helped.  Finally at church this past weekend, a friend, Jody Whitley gave me a book: Healing Your Grieving Heart: 100 Practical Ideas by Alan Wolfelt.  I think it’s worth sharing with you if you have lost a loved one.

The Mourner’s Code

You have the right to experience your own unique grief.  Each of us possesses different emotional makeups. However grief comes out in you, i.e., tears, anger, despair, sorrow—just express it as wisely as possible.

You have the right to talk about your grief.  Talk with a dear friend, counselor, or minister. You could also keep a journal about your grief. Write it out of you and onto the paper.

You have the right to feel a multitude of emotions.  Believe me, you’re going to go up and down the scale of emotions.

You have the right to be tolerant of your physical and emotional limits.  I can tell you that you’re going to go through the gamut of experiences with your body and mind.

You have the right to experience “grief-bursts.”  They come at any moment. They may wreck your day. They may find you weeping inside the grocery store. Just accept that your mind must express itself in “grief-bursts.”

You have the right to make use of ritual.  Okay, light a candle. Walk with a friend. Play music that soothes you.

You have a right to express your spirituality. However you see God, you may be angry, thankful or numb. You can’t blame anyone or anything.  Life just picked you to lose your loved one.  In the end, it’s all random chance.

You have the right to search for meaning.  Right now, I am doing my best to find meaning by swimming, lifting weights, and finally, back on the dance floor. I’m working on a book. I call my friends for support.

You have the right to treasure your memories. I’ve got pictures of Sandi and me sailing, skiing, bicycling, dancing, canoeing, sailing, by a campfire, standing at the Statue of Liberty, motorcycling to Sturgis, camping in Alaska, and a dozen other activities. In each picture, she’s smiling with joy.

You have the right to move toward your grief and heal. At this point, I am feeling grief 24/7. As to healing, I’m not there, yet. I may not ever get there.  Nonetheless, I am regaining my footing with the help of my friends.

You have the right to walk through “forest bathing.”  That means to walk into the woods to “listen to the trees”, or take a bicycle ride with friends, or go camping to sit by a campfire, or sit by a stream or lake. Being with Mother Nature helps heal pain.

Just know that I know what you’re going through. If you’ve lost a loved one, you know what I am going through.  Just know that I hope you find friends and family to help you through your ordeal.

Life is precious; let us all move toward friends, fellowship, laughter, wonder, curiosity, music, and renewed joy.

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-- Frosty Wooldridge
Golden, CO
Population-Immigration-Environmental specialist: speaker at colleges, civic clubs, high schools and conferences
Facebook: Frosty Wooldridge
Facebook Adventure Page: How to Live a Life of Adventure: The Art of Exploring the World
Www.HowToLiveALifeOfAdventure.com
Www.frostywooldridge.com
Six continent world bicycle traveler
Speaker/writer/adventurer
Adventure book: How to Live a Life of Adventure: The Art of Exploring the World
Frosty Wooldridge, six continent world bicycle traveler, Astoria, Oregon to Bar Harbor, Maine, 4,100 miles, 13 states, Canada, summer 2017, 100,000 feet of climbing: