09/07/2026
Recently, I find myself pausing a bit more frequently.
Pondering what it means to move forward despite experiencing loss in different ways—a dream, an opportunity, a pet, a relationship, a loved one.
I guess one of the worst kinds of grief is the one that you can see coming. Even from a mile away.
You know you'll go through loss, but part of you hopes it'll get delayed just a bit more. Just one more day. A few more seconds.
Please.
But it comes still. At a time when you're not ready even if you thought you were.
It's the kind of grief that grips tightly despite not having anything to hold on to.
The kind that won't shed tears on cue, but will come crashing in waves on a random Thursday.
But how beautiful it is to grieve, I think. How wonderful it is to still greet loss and death with love.
Oh how great the heart is of one who remembers the ones and things that are no more. At least in that, I somehow find solace.
I grieve still because I still love.
