On Not Carrying Sorrow Alone

The People Who Walk With You Through Nightmares

I’m Haley. Book midwife (editor) and author. Consider upgrading to a paid subscription to support this work and gain access to exclusive content:

The night I was blindsided by discovering my seemingly happy marriage was in reality completely destroyed, I was only alone with that fact for a matter of minutes. Tears streaming down my face I walked through my bedroom past the slumbering child in her sleeping bag recovering from an ear infection and out to the little back porch attached to my home office. The ground felt like the tossing and turning of a ship’s deck in a storm. I sat on the porch steps on that muggy May night and looked up at the stars. The weight of what I had just found out felt like it would crush me. But it was 2:30am and so who could I call in the middle of the night?

Then I remembered my friend Meg’s bizarre sleep schedule. I sent off a text: “My life just blew up. Are you awake? Can you talk?” She was awake. She called and I sobbed my heart out to her. The situation had not gotten less painful, but not being alone in it—that changed everything.

I didn’t sleep that night and instead listened to my daughter's peaceful breath as she slept for several hours. Then I waited for the sun to rise and sat on the porch swing before calling my brother, my priest, and two close friends.

It was one of my kids’ birthdays which I didn’t want to ruin so I held it together through the day and birthday dinner with the extended family and then called my parents. My dad bought a plane ticket and arrived 36 hours later. Dinner delivery arrived. My friend Beca didn’t ask what she could do or what we’d like to eat. She just ordered something and it showed up. Tears of gratitude sprang into my eyes. The kids ate and I tried a bite before realizing that I couldn’t swallow. I paced in the driveway for hours verbally processing and piecing things together with family and friends. One day that first week, I walked 11 miles. It felt like if I kept moving I could keep breathing in and out.

I couldn’t eat and I couldn’t sleep but I experienced for the first time what people say happens when a terrible sorrow arrives at your door: being wrapped in love. I have never in my life felt so loved by other people and by God than in those worst weeks of my life. The spiritual consolation was overwhelming. The care I received from family and friends is something I will never be able to repay.

As sleep was evasive for several weeks, I would sit on the porch swing starting at 3 or 4am listening to music and watching the stars peeking through the branches of my live oak trees. I was entranced as they were replaced by the orange glow of the sun rise. The sound of the cicadas and night birds, the warm summer air, the fire tinted clouds—it was all still beautiful. And I was surprised by the joy I experienced in it. It was a gift of grace that I was filled with hope ever since I heard Meg’s voice on the phone that first night and allowed her to carry my sorrow with me. Many, many people have helped me carry this grief over the past six months. And their love has lightened the load so very much.

While I have been in anguish, I have not been alone in my grief. But I was anxious about sharing the news publicly. It’s just a lot to navigate: my children’s privacy, the opinions of others, desire to process through the written word. I am truly blown away by all the love, concern, support, and sharing of similar experiences I’ve received since I posted on Wednesday. What a gift.

I have read every comment, every message, every DM on social media, every email, every text. It will likely take me weeks to respond to everyone. But good golly. I feel so loved. And so not alone. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I am a writer without words fine enough to express my gratitude. God uses other people to comfort and to love us and I certainly have experienced his love through all of you over the past few days. Thank you for helping me carry this sorrow.

There are also a lot of brand new faces around here. Shall I attempt a lightning quick recap of who I am and what this Substack is about?

Here goes:

I’m Haley. I just became a single mom. I have four kids ages six to almost sixteen. I’m the Editor of Word on Fire Votive (a publishing imprint for young readers), the host of The Votive Podcast, and the author of a children’s series (The Sister Seraphina Mysteries), a Catholic Kids’ Cookbook, and two books for grown-ups.

I’m a Catholic convert and I love my faith. Anne Shirley is my literary soul sister. I love good stories that shape the imagination and draw us into wonder. In this space I share about books, music, art, culture, faith, and a little about motherhood. I’m interested in the dual callings of mother/artists. I lead pilgrimages in the summers (join me in June? There’s even a deal coming up.¹). I love Jane Austen, Evelyn Waugh, and Sigrid Undset. I am experiencing the most wildly transformative year of my life. My former sister-in-law is my closest friend and we delight in spending time with our kids and adventuring with them. I am joyful, though I have considered all the facts.²

Thank you for being here. Thank you for joining me as I move into this next, strange chapter.

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With all my heart,

Haley

1. I’m teaming up with

Tsh Oxenreider

and Mike and Alexandra Foley to lead a Rhine River Cruise June 3-13th! Check out the full itinerary here. On Black Friday Weekend: From midnight Eastern time on Friday, November 29, 2024, until 11:59 PM Eastern time on Sunday, December 1, 2024, anyone (including solo travelers) registering for the trip will receive a $250 discount. The discounts will automatically be applied to the final balance by or before December 9, 2024. You can enroll here.

2. Tweaking of Wendell Berry’s poem"Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front.”