a new identity

“I lost more than my partner, my husband, and my life,” Stanke says quietly, “I lost my identity. Who I was before — mom, wife, homemaker, crafter, cook, gardener, girlfriend, fitness instructor — living the ‘mom-and-wife-life’ — is gone. The trauma, guilt and grief were overwhelming.”

A series of calamities followed that added to her grief: difficulties with the interim staff at the moving business, trucks breaking down, their home septic tank and deck collapsing, the skid loader they used to feed their horses broke while battling a harsh winter and 10-foot drifts. It seemed unending.

“When I didn’t think I could hold on any longer, I had to recall something my brother told me right after Greg died,” Stanke recalls. “He said, ‘You probably feel the most unloved you ever have and ever will. Because the unthinkable has happened, and your eyes have seen the unimaginable, you’ll have to go looking for the pure, and the good, and the love in the world. You’ll find it in the little things.’ His words have been my anchor.”

In the past two years, she has dived into the day-to-day operations of their moving company, A to Z Moving. She relocated the shop and re-branded the company with Greg’s image and his signature color, purple. Her new crew has incredible energy and great dynamics, according to Stanke.

To reduce the shock and better understand the trauma she experienced with Greg’s suicide, she began reading stories of other women widowed by suicide. “My horror story is a fairytale compared many others,” Stanke says. “It’s humbling and makes me incredibly grateful for our 25 years of marriage, my home, my daughters, our granddaughter, my business and all the things I can barely manage every day. My goal is to stop complaining that my life is overwhelming and start talking about how it’s overflowing.”