To Those Grieving a Loss

 

There are no words that can truly wrap up the space that grief creates. No perfect sentence that will make the emptiness of losing someone feel lighter. Grief is a weight, yes. But more than that, it is a space where the world feels out of place, a time when everything familiar is suddenly strange.

The loss of a loved one is something no one is really prepared for, no matter how much we think we understand it. When you lose someone you loved deeply, it can feel like the earth beneath you is shifting, and your foundation is no longer solid. It’s a pain that isn’t easily explained because it’s not just about the absence of a person, it’s the absence of everything they represented to you: the hugs, the conversations, the memories that lived inside your heart and home.

I know that for some, today feels like another day to simply get through. For others, it might feel like time has stopped, and the world is now separated into two parts: before the loss, and after.

Many times, in the silence of your grief, there are questions you ask yourself.

“Will this pain ever feel lighter?”

“Will I ever stop missing them?”

“Will I ever feel whole again?”

The truth is, grief does not have a timeline. There is no “should” when it comes to how long it takes to heal, how often you should cry, or when you should “move on.” In fact, moving on is a myth. It’s not about forgetting. It’s about learning how to live with the love and the loss, all tangled up in your heart.

For my soul sister, and for anyone else who has lost someone they loved, know that your pain is real. And it is okay to feel it. You don’t have to rush through it, hide it, or pretend you are okay when you’re not. Your grief is as sacred as the love you shared with that person.

And you are allowed to be in it, to honour it, and to feel it as deeply as it moves through you.

I wish I could take the pain away, but I can’t. What I can offer is this: You are not alone. Grief can isolate you, but you are not forgotten. Your heart, your story, and the love you carry with you are still so important.

I wish I could say the right words to make you smile or bring comfort, but what I want to say instead is this:

You are allowed to breathe.

You are allowed to cry, to laugh, to feel everything, and nothing.

You are allowed to find joy again, even if it feels impossible.

And in those moments when the world feels empty, know that love doesn’t just leave. It becomes part of who you are, woven into the fabric of your life forever.

So, take your time. Lean on the people who love you. Allow yourself to rest when you need it. And most importantly, keep walking. One slow step at a time.

The world is still holding you, even when it feels like the light is dim. And one day, the pain will be a little less sharp, and the love will be a little stronger. Until then, may you find peace in knowing that you are loved, even now.