Leaving the Abbey: Grieving the Roles That Once Defined Us
- Hannah
- Sep 1
- 4 min read
Updated: Sep 11
How to Grieve Roles, Seasons & Life Transitions with Grace
Downton Abbey fans are getting ready for a final farewell. The finale. Saying goodbye to people, places, and lives they - and we - knew so well. It's emotional because we know the feeling. We all have had to do the same.
We have all had our own “abbey.”
A place. A role. A season of life that made you feel safe, purposeful, and known.
And maybe—like me—you’ve had to walk away. Sometimes by choice. Sometimes because the choice was made for you.
The Ground We’ll Cover
Navigating life transitions with grace and resilience
How Downton Abbey teaches us about identity, change, and adaptation
Grieving the loss of a role, place, or season of life
Finding beauty in endings and new beginnings
Reflection questions to help you move forward with purpose
Leaving my Own Abbey: Military Service
September of this year marks a huge transition for me, the end of my military service. I have dedicated 17 years to the United States Air Force. Deployed all over the world to war zones, embassies, and some nice places.
I have been blessed to work with the most elite forces in the world and with the most amazing people, whom I still would do anything for.
I loved my job and it had its own transitions over the years - moving to new bases, rising up in leadership positions, and developing new roles. Each one was different and looking back I can see the growth. That all of it made me who I am now.
I know it is time to move onto a new chapter. A whole new book really. I am now in a place where I look forward to what is next with joy and peace. But it doesn’t mean that I - that you - don’t grieve the change and loss during any transition.
Life will never be the same. It feels like you have to leave everything behind. But what if you only have to leave what you don’t need behind? And you get to take the rest with you?
The Rooms We Lived In
Downton Abbey has always felt like more than a TV series—it’s a place you know without ever setting foot inside. One of my best friends and I visited this past spring and it felt like home. You were there when everything happened. You belonged.
The foyer with its grand carpet and the fire’s steady glow. The library where quiet decisions were made. The dining room where the day’s stories—both the bitter and the sweet—were laid out like the silver. Lord Grantham’s desk. The clock Thomas winds. The staircase where secrets and celebrations both have passed.
It’s a home of memory, not just stone.
I have my own “rooms” like that from nearly two decades in military service—briefing rooms, aircraft hangars, desert tents, the quiet glow of screens deep into the night. Places I walked every day without thinking, until I realized I’d never walk them again.
The People Who Shaped Us
The heart of the Abbey isn’t its walls—it’s the people inside.
I’ve known my Edith seasons—tested and stretched to my limits.
My Anna moments—when shame and injustice pressed close.
My Tom years—an outsider learning to belong.
My Mary days—guarded, even cold, to survive. And my Thomas nights—wondering if there was truly a place for me.
These stories live in all of us. No matter the century, we share the same human script: loss, trial, change, celebration, resilience.
When Goodbye Holds Both Grief and Gratitude
“I have given my life to Downton. It's my third parent and my fourth child." - Lord Grantham
I feel the weight of those words. When you’ve poured your life into something—whether it’s a career, a marriage, or a community—walking away, even when it’s right, is never clean.
There’s grief, yes. But grief is only love in its most honest form—love with nowhere to go.
Downton didn’t die; it adapted and transitioned. So do we. It’s always bittersweet.
Walking Away With Dignity
Leaving my own abbey—military life—means letting go of a role that shaped me, protected me, and demanded everything from me. Something I believed in, was passionate about, and was proud of.
The bitter-sweetness of leaving something or someone you love is that you grieve what was - even if parts of it were painful and dysfunctional - and wish it were different.
It means packing up not just uniforms and certificates, but the identity that came with them.
You carry forward the values, experience, friendships, and discipline and learn to use them for your next journey.
It means separating who you are from what the job, relationship, role was and learning who you are without that. It is scary and sometimes heartbreaking. But that separation is necessary for new growth - just like Downton. There is always a new era that requires lessons from the last chapter.
If You’ve Had to Leave Your Abbey
Maybe you’ve left a job that once defined you. A marriage that was home for a season. A community that felt like family.
Leaving isn’t just about change—it’s about tending the scar and the blessing it leaves behind.
You can grieve it. You can bless it. You can walk forward with both.
Thoughts to Ponder:
What’s the “abbey” you’ve had to leave?
Which rooms or moments still live in you?
What would it look like to walk away with both grief and gratitude?
Because sometimes the bravest thing we can do is close the door gently… and trust there’s another set of keys in our pocket.
💜 Hannah
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