My grief journey has been one of those seasons. When my father passed away unexpectedly in 1998, it was a violent death that left me in shock. As his next of kin, I had to manage all the details — the arrangements, the aftermath — while carrying a complicated relationship with him. I wasn’t at peace with him. I held years of anger and regret, and for a long time, that grief stayed stuck inside me. It wasn’t until this past year that I was able to find forgiveness for him… and for myself. I could finally see his struggle, with empathy. I could finally soften my own heart. In October 2023, I lost Beau — my beloved soul dog of 14.5 years. He came into my life during a time of great pain, during a horrible divorce, and in many ways, he saved me. He was with me and my children through everything. His loss broke something deep in me. And then — just a few months later, in February 2024 — I lost my mother. Her death was sudden. Life-altering. We were incredibly close — speaking every day, sometimes two or three times a day. She was my touchstone. The loss was unbearable. As the oldest in my family, I had to set my grief aside to care for my sisters, for my mom’s husband, for everyone. I planned her burial, her ceremonies, and I held the fragile space for my family’s mental and emotional well-being. I had little time for my own grief. It wasn’t until many months later that I could finally begin to grieve fully — to honor what I had been carrying. And truthfully: I am still healing. Grief is still moving through me, layer by layer.