The Heart's Journey of a Single Mother Who Overcame the Grief of Losing a Loved One【Personal Experience】

Aug. 17, 2017（Last Update: June 13, 2026）

In Sapporo, Hokkaido, Ms. S lived with her husband and two daughters.
One day, her husband, who was in his 40s and in the prime of his working life, suddenly passed away, leaving her in tears of loneliness and anxiety...
We will trace the journey of how Ms. S regained her smile and stepped into a new life.
（Ms. S / Female / Monthly 'Happy Science' open_in_new No. 366, reprinted and edited）

This article is based on a personal experience published in the Monthly 'Happy Science' No. 366 (August 2017).

Daddy, please watch over us from heaven.

It was three years ago, on January 14, 2014. At that time, I was a nurse and had just returned home after a half-day shift.

"Welcome home, Mama!"
"I'm back. Did you just wake up, big sister? I wonder if Daddy went to the hospital?"
"Hmm. I don't know."

For the past few days, my husband had been suffering from severe headaches and had said he would go to the hospital today.
When I entered the living room, my husband was lying on the sofa.

"Hey, Daddy, what about the hospital...?"

Seeing my husband's face as he slept, I was startled. His expression was different from usual.

"Daddy...!!"

I quickly checked his pulse, but I couldn't feel anything from his wrist. When I touched his neck, there was a faint pulse. I hurriedly called an ambulance.

"Big sister, we're going to the hospital, so get ready!"

Until the ambulance arrived, I desperately tried to keep my husband's life going with artificial respiration and chest compressions.

But...

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but your husband is already..."

Although he was taken to the hospital, it was already too late, and my husband became someone who would never return.

The diagnosis was acute subarachnoid hemorrhage. He was only 49 years old.

(Daddy, why...?)

Before I could even grieve, various procedures, notifications, and funeral arrangements flooded in, and I had so much to do.

Wanting to consult someone, I called my friend Ms. Y. She is a fellow practitioner of Happy Science with whom we have a family relationship.

"Hello, Ms. Y? Right now, my husband..."

"What!? I'm coming over right away!"

Ms. Y went to pick up my youngest daughter from daycare in my place and accompanied me during the police questioning.

"Mama, what happened to Daddy?"
"Well, Daddy has returned to heaven."

At that time, my eldest daughter was in the third grade of elementary school, and my youngest daughter was in her last year of kindergarten, but through the teachings of Happy Science, they knew that "humans continue to live as souls in the spiritual world after death," so they seemed to accept their father's death in their own way.

As for me, if I hadn't learned from Happy Science, I think my heart would have broken.

In Happy Science, we learn that humans originally live in heaven and are born on Earth occasionally for soul training, and that the hardships and difficulties experienced during life are woven into each person's 'life plan' as training challenges.

(Was this also part of Daddy and my 'life plan'?)

By thinking this way, I was able to accept my husband's death with a bit more calmness.

After the wake and funeral had passed, I finally took a breath when the local Happy Science members held a 'Farewell Gathering' for me.

"S-chan, it must have been tough for you."
"You're not alone. You can consult about anything."
"Yes. Thank you..."

Supported by everyone's kindness, I resolved in my heart that "I have no choice but to do my best."

※ Fellow practitioners: Friends who study the same teachings and can discuss their learnings.

On a night when I was exhausted from crying.

However, as the life of the three of us—mother and daughters—began, the loneliness of being without my husband became more palpable.

"Mama is going to work now."

On days when I had to work on holidays, I had to leave my two daughters at home.

At my youngest daughter's graduation ceremony and entrance ceremony, there was no sign of my husband, who should have been there with us, and I couldn't even consult about whether to take on a PTA role.

(I really have become all alone...)

At night, when I put my daughters to bed and was alone, memories of my husband came flooding back.

"I want S-san to be happy."

My husband often casually said such words. He was always kind and a warm person who prioritized others over himself.

(If only I had noticed sooner...)

As a nurse, I can't forgive myself for not noticing my husband's condition.

(Can I really raise the children by myself?)

Of course, I tried not to show a sad face at work or in front of my daughters, but when I was alone, tears would inevitably overflow.

One night, after being exhausted from crying, I looked up and saw the Gohonzon before me.

(Ah... That's right, I am—)

I felt as if the light of the Gohonzon illuminated my heart, which was filled with anxiety and sadness.

(That's right. I'm not alone. The deities are always watching over me.)

At that moment, I was filled with an indescribable sense of peace. It's strange, but I was able to firmly believe that "both I and my children are okay." It was an event where I truly felt the power of faith.

The day I met him again

With faith as my support, I was busy with work and raising children, and before I knew it, a year had passed.

(I will offer prayers for my husband during the equinox.)

In March 2015, I participated in the "Ancestor Memorial Festival" at the Seishinkan in Hokkaido and decided to receive the "Ainen (love thought) memorial prayer" for my husband.

During that prayer ceremony, I had a very mystical experience.

As I closed my eyes and thought of my husband, a warm sensation welled up in my chest.

Then...

Thank you, S.

My husband's spirit appeared and smiled at me. He gently touched my shoulder.

Please take care of the children.

At that moment, tears overflowed.

Take care of yourself.
You don't have to push yourself too hard.
I'm returning to heaven, but I will always wish for your happiness, S.

After saying that, my husband was enveloped in light and disappeared high into the sky.

(Papa...!)

The joy and sadness of reunion.

And my gratitude to the deities overflowed, and I couldn't stop crying.

Opening a new door

After the mystical experience at the memorial festival, I feel that I have become mentally stronger.

When I am troubled, I pray to the Gohonzon and learn solutions by reading the books of President Ryuho Okawa.

On holidays, my mother, my daughter, and I often stay at the Seishinkan and have also participated in unsui training (*).

As I centered my life around faith, I no longer cried alone in anxiety, and my friends around me began to say, "You've changed a lot," and "You've become brighter."

One day, while talking with fellow practitioners at the Seishinkan, the topic of future dreams came up.

"What is S's dream?"

When I was asked that, the words that came out were...

"I actually wanted to become a nursery teacher."

That had been my dream for many years. However, I thought it was too late now.

"S, you should give it a try."

"Really!? But..."

Everyone took my dream, which I had given up on, seriously and encouraged me to "challenge it."

That event became a turning point, and I was able to take a step toward my dream.

Now, while working as a nursery assistant, I am diligently studying for my qualifications.

Through my work as a nursery teacher, I want to be of service to the world. With that hope in my heart, I am living busy but fulfilling days.

All of this is thanks to faith and my fellow practitioners.

I want to keep working hard, looking forward to the day I can reunite with my husband in heaven.

(* A training that involves assisting with environmental maintenance and event management, refining the heart.)

The substitution for "love that takes away"

It is good when the descendants' desire to "offer prayers for their ancestors" manifests as love thoughts, but there are cases where it does not.

That is when the descendants, the living humans, are praying for memorial services in the hope of being saved somehow.

For example, when there are issues like "poor academic performance," "business troubles," "not being promoted at work," "failed romances," or "problems with children," they might think, "Isn't this because the ancestors are lost?" and diligently perform ancestor memorial services in the hope of achieving happiness.

Here, there is a subtle possibility of substitution occurring.
Although memorial services are originally "love that gives," when the descendants perform memorial services with the thought of "to prevent the ancestors from causing trouble" for their own comfort and ease of living, it is easy for "love that takes away" to arise.

As a result, unreflective individuals may emerge, and the sides of those being memorialized and those performing the memorial services may become similar.

If the side being memorialized has gone to heaven, such problems do not arise, but if the ancestors have become evil spirits in the afterlife and are lost, when the descendants perform ancestor memorial services with a selfish heart, both sides are almost identical, so they completely connect.

When the side being memorialized is in heaven, ancestor memorial services are a wish for "the ancestors' training in the afterlife to progress further, and for the ancestors to enter a higher realm," and I believe it is also a cheer (support) saying, "Since we, the descendants, are making this effort, please elevate your enlightenment and rise to an even higher state, grandpa and grandma."

And as the descendants' studies progress, it becomes the case that "my descendants are working so hard and are also being of service to the world," leading the ancestors to gain light in the afterlife and accumulate virtue.

When it is said, "Your descendants are quite impressive," the reputation in the afterlife rises, and while watching such descendants, they feel, "I must also work harder," which further advances their enlightenment.

In that sense, good ancestor memorial services are possible.