Before loss, forever is just a word.
You know what it means. Of course you do.
But you don’t really understand it until someone you love dies.
Because in the beginning, forever is almost impossible to comprehend.
You know they’re gone. You’ve said the words out loud. You’ve made the arrangements. You’ve stood through the service. You’ve watched everyone eventually go back to their lives.
You know what happened.
And somehow, your mind still hasn’t caught up.
Something happens and you immediately think, I have to tell them.
You hear a story and already know exactly what they would say.
You walk into a room and, for just a second, expect them to be where they’ve always been.
And then it hits you again.
They’re gone.
Not gone for a while.
Not somewhere you can reach them.
Not coming back.
Forever.
I think that is one of the hardest realities of grief.
Because forever doesn’t just mean losing the person once.
It means slowly realizing all the things you lost with them.
The conversations you’ll never have.
The birthdays they won’t be here for.
The questions you didn’t know you would someday want to ask.
The things happening in your life right now that they should know about.
The stories only they would understand.
The sound of their voice.
The way they laughed.
The way it felt to simply know they were there.
And maybe that’s why our minds have such a hard time accepting death.
How do you make sense of someone being part of your entire world one day and completely unreachable the next?
How do you understand that you can love someone for the rest of your life, but never get another minute with them?
I don’t think you do.
I think that’s the part of forever we learn after loss.
You don’t understand it all at once.
You understand it in pieces.
In the things you still want to tell them.
In the moments when you know exactly what they would say.
In the milestones that keep coming.
In all the times you think, They should be here for this.
And even after you’ve learned how to keep living, there are still moments when the reality of forever feels just as impossible as it did in the beginning.
Because knowing someone is gone and understanding that they are never coming back are two very different things.
If these words connected with you, you’ll find many more like them in What Remains. It’s a collection of the writings I’ve shared over the years, bringing together reflections on grief, love, loss, and the connections that continue long after someone is gone.
I hope it brings you comfort, understanding, and the reminder that you’re not alone.
If you’d like to read more, you can find the book here
Available now on Amazon