There is one piece of subject matter I understand well and am very acquainted with— grief.

I think it started when I was a little girl. It was the little things, the silence that should have been praise, the glare that should have been a smile. It evolved into cutting words that never should have been spoken, into actions that never should have taken place. It was then replaced with the feeling of loss, knowing life should have been different… if only it had been different, life wouldn’t be so cold, so vacant at times.

Life gets filled with all manner of “should have’s” rather than memories and happiness. There’s an ache where love is supposed to be, where warmth is supposed to be. I understand grief. I understand it well. I understand how random it feels at times, how the day can be going great then all of a sudden, a wave washes over me and suddenly my breath catches in my throat and the weight of what was and what should have been rest solely on my chest. Suddenly I’m sent back to where I was, where I never wanted to be again and yet, I’ve come so far.

It’s only a moment… it’s only a passing moment. My eyes sealed with tears, pulling in a sharp breath, making sure no one saw me. I clear my throat and move on from the moment, exhaling the pain, releasing the ache.

I’m never going to sit here and tell you I have all the answers. Sometimes all I have is a quiet space beside me, open for you to sit, where we can sit together because— I understand. Sometimes all I have is a steady silence, the kind of silence you can lean into because its stable and I’m not going anywhere.

I’ve become so well acquainted with silence in the last few years that I often have to remind myself to speak. It’s easy being around some people on certain days, like Lily because she often doesn’t need my words, she can feel me. She knows exactly where I am and who I am. I move in silence often, through touch, hugs, a loving glance, a heartfelt smile. It’s all I have some days. I’ve lost so much in my life, I want to nurture and tend to what I do have left, I want to fill it with my love and keep it, keep them close to me. But I know my love looks different. It’s deeper. It subtler, more patient and long suffering. That scripture where we’re told to bear with one another, that’s what comes to mind. My love is filled with a quiet steady understanding. For some it is a source of great comfort, for others, it is terrifying because it’s rich.

Grief changes a person. It etches each story into your soul in a way nothing else does. It shapes you much like a wave reshapes the sand as it recedes back into the sea. Grief is as complex as there is sand on the shore. There is no going back to the way things were once grief makes its home within you, you simply learn how to live different. You learn to live from a space of having experienced something extraordinary yet, something that is often common to mankind. When it is loss, you live from the memory of them, from what you remember, the way they changed you— whether positive or negative. You learn to weave it into your story in a way that works, in a way that doesn’t feel so vacant.

When it’s the sort of grief that settles in because of things that happened, you learn to see life as it actually was and not how you needed them to be. Often a way to heal, is to become who you needed rather than continuing to grieve over who they couldn’t show up as. I know it doesn’t undo the pain, but it can at least aid in creating a brighter future.

Some people came into our lives for only a season and often we don’t know what their exact purpose was until time has passed. Sometimes we never figure out the reason. But their time with us has passed and they left behind traces of themselves within our lives. We owe it to ourselves to find a way to live from a place that sometimes feels like a deficit. It’s all part of our time here. We don’t know when it will end. But we have the opportunity to feel our feelings, express our emotions, love the people that we have while we have them and do the things that we feel called to do. This is what we have. Life really is fragile. And it is short. It’s so delicate and precious but we forget that because we have news and media pressing in on our minds clouding out the truth. Clouding out the things that matter the most, like love and living life to the fullest. FEELING everything… what a blessing it is to feel, even when it hurts. Some have already been denied the privilege.

This is what we have. Some days are amazing and it all feels okay again and others hurt like hell. But you know what? We have right now, this moment… what will you do with your now?

Blessings xx