Today—I called my mom to say my final goodbyes to my grandma (Dad’s side). As I stood in the bathroom, my eyes landed on my prescription glasses on the floor, courtesy of my little traveler. I was saddened by the news of her transition, and in the midst of crying, I found myself chuckling. In a way that felt straight out of a movie, I whispered to myself: This is life.
My husband and my baby boy wouldn’t let me sit in sadness for too long, and for that, I’m thankful.
I exchanged pleasantries with my little brother, had a brief conversation with my mom, and truly—for me—life goes on. I’ve stopped volunteering and overcommitting to things I genuinely don’t want to do no matter the circumstance. I know my family knows how I feel, and even if they don’t, I’ve found value in my peace. While I’ve never been one to mince words, I’ve learned the importance of not speaking on people who don’t bring positivity into my life.
I will miss my grandma. So many things about her reminded me of my dad. Our relationship was a rollercoaster, but through it all, one thing remained: transparency—at least on my end. Being able to say goodbye to her gave me a sense of relief.
Now, here we are at the end of the month, and time is flying. But I’m proud of myself. I’ve scheduled much-needed appointments for the family, made necessary rearrangements, and stuck to the commitments I set on my vision bingo board. I’ve finally committed to focusing on what’s important to me.
This year, I have direction. I’m learning to slow down and take things one day at a time instead of planning too far ahead. I’m constantly reminded of what peace feels like to me, and while I know stressors will come, I’m prepared. I’m almost at the 10-week mark in this pregnancy, and whew—I’m holding on.
I even found my old high school hairstylist, because lately, I’ve been looking like a booga wolf—and that was not part of the vision! I’ve been 100% committed to getting back to the things that used to make me happy: watching live performances of my favorite artists on YouTube, reading, writing, knowing when to disconnect, and—most importantly—resting, because you can never get too much of that while pregnant.
I’ve also completed almost a full month at work, and I still love it. In fact, it keeps getting better and better. The job itself is simple, but it’s truly one of the best jobs I’ve had in awhile. Even though my role is minimal, I know my work is impactful, and I feel valued.
Grieving for me looks like carrying on with life—holding the weight of my emotions, receiving slow and meaningful hugs from my husband, and getting open-mouth kisses from my son. He’s still learning, but it’s truly the sweetest thing. It’s proving to myself that while I carry pain, I am stronger than it. Grief is temporary, though it often reappears. But in those moments, I remind myself: This is life, and I am living it. I am strong.
