A Life Beyond Style Reflection on Widowhood, Grace, and Starting Over
Grief after loss doesn’t follow a clean timeline or quietly exit stage left. It lingers, it loops, and sometimes it surprises you on a random Tuesday afternoon. But for me, it lives in one very specific date: July 17.
It’s been six years since I lost Mr. Style. Six years since the man who stood behind the camera, supported every leap, and helped shape the life we built—was suddenly gone. Some days it feels like a lifetime ago. Others, like it just happened.
Grief doesn’t disappear. It just softens. It shifts shape. And somewhere along the way, I learned how to carry it without letting it carry me.
One of the biggest turning points in my grief journey was reclaiming our bedroom—not to erase the past, but to make space for who I was becoming.
Reclaiming My Bedroom After Grief After Loss
In March 2020, one of my sons moved home during the pandemic, and I spruced up the downstairs guest room. That decision rippled: I sent our Ralph Lauren–inspired bedroom set to its next chapter and created a space that was just for me.
And something unexpected happened—I fell in love with my home again. Not the home I had with him, but the one I was learning to love without him. That moment reminded me of something I wrote in Strong but Tired.
Grief didn’t get the last word. I did. I chose navy, magenta, and a striped headboard to do it. I didn’t just redecorate—I rebuilt myself.
There’s something sacred about the spaces we create. They hold us, witness us, and sometimes, they help put us back together. This room did exactly that during my grief after loss.
Oscar, my loyal sidekick, was there through it all—quiet, constant, always nearby. And now, six years later, as he begins to slow down, I feel grief knocking again. Not loudly. Just a gentle tap, like it remembers it’s been here before.
But this time, I’m different. I’ve built softer places to land. I’ve let beauty into the cracks. I’ve learned how to keep going, even when everything aches.
At 66, we know loss. We carry it—parents, friends, spouses, parts of ourselves. But life doesn’t stop. We still get dressed. We still set the table. We still make a home. That’s what I’ve learned through grief after loss.
My bedroom isn’t just where I sleep. It’s where I chose to live again. It reflects comfort, beauty, and the quiet courage to press on.
Oscar is part of that story. This room is part of that story. And I’m sharing it not because it’s perfect—but because it’s mine.
This isn’t just decor. It’s my soul, upholstered.
If you’re grieving, tired, or wondering what’s next—you’re not alone. There’s still beauty to be found. There’s still light to let in. And there’s still power in fluffing your pillows and choosing joy, even when it feels far away.
This is what style at a certain age looks like. Honest. Lived in. Still full of life.
Redecorating wasn’t just about paint colors or pillows—it was about personal transformation. Healing. Permission to say: I’m still here, and I deserve beauty, softness, and joy.
Design as Healing
My new bedroom is feminine, elegant, and just a little cheeky. The striped headboard grounds the room, while the Warhol-style prints and bold pink accents remind me not to take life—or grief—too seriously. It’s layered, like me. And for the first time in a long time, it feels entirely my own.
Grief after loss doesn’t mean you stay frozen in time. Sometimes, it means you give yourself permission to evolve. To bloom in a room of your own.
Beth’s Bedroom Staples:
Housekeeping Tips for a Well-Styled Bedroom
I’m a magazine and book lover and always looking for ways to store both. Magazine holders come in handy and stacking books on my dresser works!
1. Store Sheets Inside a Pillowcase
No more mystery linen piles. Fold your fitted sheet, flat sheet, and one pillowcase, then tuck the entire set into the second pillowcase. It stacks neatly, stays together, and looks hotel-level organized on a closet shelf or in a bin.
Beth’s Tip: Keep two sets of sheets per bed—one on, one washed. That’s it. No hoarding wrinkled twin XLs from your college days.
2. Use Matching Bins and Baskets for Visual Calm
Storage doesn’t have to be sterile. Woven or fabric bins in a neutral palette bring texture to your space while hiding the chaos—think tech cords, books, dog toys, or backup lotions. I’m a big fan of Rattan Baskets. For off-season clothes, I use Storage Box with Window, and for off-season shoes, this Set of Shoe Organizers does the trick.
Where to use:
- Under the bed (especially with low-profile bins)
- On closet shelves
- Inside dressers or armoires
- At the foot of the bed as a catchall
3. Keep a “Last Touch” Tray on the Dresser
Designate a tray or shallow basket for jewelry, lip balm, hand cream, or your watch. It keeps surfaces tidy and prevents bedtime clutter from becoming visual noise.
Bonus: It makes dusting your dresser a breeze—lift one tray instead of 12 loose items.
4. Rotate Seasonal Items Twice a Year
Store off-season bedding (like flannel sheets or heavy throws) in labeled under-bed containers or vacuum-sealed bags. Bonus points for scented sachets or dryer sheets tucked inside to keep everything fresh.
Beth’s Tip: I zhuzh the bedroom twice a year—once in spring, once in fall. It’s my version of a seasonal reset.
5. Don’t Neglect the Ceiling Fan
Nothing ruins a serene bedroom vibe faster than dust bunnies twirling overhead. Use a microfiber duster with a telescoping pole or pillowcase trick (slide over blades and pull dust inward). Do this monthly—or whenever guests are coming.
6. Keep a Handheld Vacuum Within Reach—Because Pet Hair Happens
Between Oscar’s tumbleweeds and Ollie’s feline glitter (aka cat hair on every surface), a compact handheld vacuum is a bedroom must. Use it daily for quick passes over upholstered headboards, bedding, nightstands, or even lampshades.
Beth’s Pick:
The Shark WANDVAC Power Pet Hand Vacuum is small, powerful, and doesn’t sound like a leaf blower. It lives in my closet and earns its keep—especially on laundry day.
Pro Tip: Keep it plugged in or charged in a discreet corner so it’s always ready when fur flies.
7. Tame the Drawer Chaos—Once and For All
Drawers don’t need to be junk drawers in disguise. Use slim dividers, fabric bins, or shallow trays to give everything—socks, jewelry, lint rollers, lip balms—a designated space. No more digging through tangles to find your favorite sleep mask.
Beth’s Tip: I use drawer organizers like a capsule wardrobe: curated, intentional, and everything plays well together. Customizable Drawer Organizer is a must as is a Sock Organizer.
I didn’t plan to be single at 66—but I’m more than okay with it. In fact, most days, I love it.
Single at 66: Freedom, Frustration, and the Occasional Ferrari
There’s a peace that comes with living life on your own terms. I eat what I want. I decorate how I please. I don’t have to consult anyone before rearranging furniture or booking a solo trip. Oscar doesn’t complain if I hog the covers.
Yes, grief after loss still visits me. But so does joy. So does freedom.
And yes, I date. In fits and starts. When it feels light and interesting—not because I’m trying to fill a void. Some nights, I enjoy the ritual of getting dressed and sharing a meal with someone new. Other nights, the thought of sitting across from a man explaining how he almost bought a Ferrari—or worse, delivering a TED Talk disguised as a first date—makes me want to pour a glass of wine and dive into a good book instead.
I’ve learned to trust my own company. To love it, even. That, to me, is the most powerful kind of resilience.
Here’s what I know now: grief after loss doesn’t mean life ends. It just means you carry love in a new form. You make space for both absence and abundance. You create new rituals and find comfort in your own rhythm.
Grace in the Quiet
I still miss him. I always will. But I’ve learned to miss him while living. While laughing. While rebuilding. While sleeping in a room that reflects me.
Grief doesn’t erase joy. It just teaches you to appreciate it in smaller moments and softer ways.
This room is still where I come to exhale.
It’s where I remember everything I’ve lost—and everything I’ve been brave enough to hold onto.
Including Oscar the faithful German Shepherd who never once left my side.
And here’s what I’ve learned: loss doesn’t erase beauty. If anything, it sharpens your eye for it.
Let’s Talk About It…
Have you experienced grief after loss? Reclaimed a space—or a piece of yourself—along the way? I’d love to hear how you’ve navigated the second act. Leave a comment below or tag me on Instagram using #LifeBeyondStyle.
This month, I’m raising a glass to all the women learning how to live again—with style, heart, and just enough irreverence to make it interesting.
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