As time goes on, grief slowly becomes something you realize will always be a part of your life.
Not because you’ve accepted what happened.
Not because you’re okay with it.
And certainly not because you’ve stopped wishing things could be different.
But somehow, you begin learning what it means to live with grief.
Not get over it.
Not leave it behind.
Not somehow become the person you were before.
You begin learning how to live a life where you can miss someone terribly and still have moments when you’re okay.
Where you can laugh and then wonder how you were just laughing.
Where you can make plans for the future while wishing more than anything that they were going to be there for it.
Where you can be grateful for the life you still have and devastated by the life you lost.
Those things can exist at the same time.
And I think one of the hardest parts is allowing yourself to start wanting things again.
To look forward to something.
To make a plan that has nothing to do with grief.
To think about what might make you happy.
To start asking yourself what you want your life to look like now.
That doesn’t mean your grief is getting smaller.
It doesn’t mean you miss them less.
And it sure as hell doesn’t mean you’re leaving them behind.
It means you’re learning how to live with the fact that you love someone who isn’t here anymore.
And maybe, little by little, you’re giving yourself permission to live too.
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