In Grief That Still Hurts

The house still holds the scent, the voice still echoes in certain corners, and you catch yourself dialing a number no one answers on the other end anymore. Grief doesn't follow a calendar, and no one has the right to rush you into “moving on.”

I didn't call blessed the one who pretends to be fine. I called blessed the one who weeps, because honest pain is the path — not the obstacle — to the comfort I want to give. Crying isn't a lack of faith; it's a sign that you truly loved.

I am with you in this grief, even when no one else knows what to say. I haven't come to erase the longing or replace the one who's gone — I've come to walk with you through this valley, day after day, until the pain, without ever disappearing completely, learns to live alongside the hope that one day all of this will make sense before me.