Grief as a Guest​

People say grief fades, but that’s not true. It changes. At first, it’s a storm, loud and unrelenting. Now, it’s a guest who drops by unexpectedly—a song on the radio, a familiar scent—and stays just long enough to remind me of what’s lost. I don’t fight it anymore. I offer it tea, sit with it, let it say what it needs to. Then, gently, it leaves, and I’m left with memories that don’t hurt as much, memories that feel like love.​

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