Healing the Loss

28/02/2026

grief is not the storm
it’s what comes after

the stillness

the long silence in the rafters
when the song has gone
out of the house
and the couch cushions
empty of laughter

grief is not the wound
it is the way the body leans
forever slightly to one side
where the weight used to be

the chair where no one sits
the name that echoes
but no longer answers
it doesn’t arrive by formal invitation
no official announcement or fanfare
it arrives like moss
slow
soft
relentless
covering everything
you once called certain

you cannot outrun it
it knows the shape
of your feet
the path of your desire
the shortcuts
through your dreams

but listen
grief is not your enemy
it is the forest
that remembers
what you loved

it is your guide
it will lead you
on holy pilgrimage
and lead you

not out
but in

to the tributary where your tears
become an offering
not a weakness
or an inconvenience
because they are holy tribute

it will lead you
to the place where your sorrow
is not something to fix
but to something feel
because it still speaks of love

they lied when they said
you had to get over it
you don’t get over
you get under

under the soil
under the story
under the skin of the world
where your grief
sinks into the river
below the river
and becomes a root
twisting toward light

the ache will not vanish
but in time
it will become a rhythm
a prayer
a presence

and sometimes
when the night is long
and the fire is low
you will feel them

not gone
just changed
just waiting
in the story
beneath the story

while you
grief-blooded
grief-wise
grief-honored
will know what it means
to carry a name
in your chest
like an ember
that never goes out

and sometimes
you will hold that
ember as a lantern
to the moon
and offer her the story
just to hear her sigh

********************
Poem © Angi Sullins - from my new book "Unmasking a Myth" AVAILABLE HERE: https://angisullins.com/shop-3-2/

Times are dicey out there, friends, and free speech has gotten quite expensive. Please stay in touch with me by joining my mailing list here https://angisullins.com/get-your-muse-letter-2/. . It’s the best way to keep our independence in tact and the power to communicate alive, protected from being silenced.

26/02/2026

The dishes have been sitting there for three days.

The laundry is piling up. The emails are unanswered. The calls are unreturned. The things that used to take you twenty minutes now feel like climbing a mountain.

And you're starting to wonder what's wrong with you.

Nothing is wrong with you.

You're not lazy. You're not falling apart. You're not weak or unmotivated or losing your mind.

You're grieving.

And grief is the most exhausting thing a human being can experience.

It takes everything you have just to get out of bed some days. Just to shower. Just to eat something. Just to answer one text without feeling completely depleted.

People don't understand that. They see you not keeping up and they think you're not trying. They think if you just pushed yourself a little harder, got into a routine, stayed busy—you'd be fine.

But they don't know what it feels like to carry this weight.

To wake up every morning already exhausted before the day even starts. To spend so much energy just holding yourself together that there's nothing left for anything else.

Grief is a full-time job. And nobody pays you for it. Nobody gives you time off for it. Nobody sees the work you're doing just to survive it.

But I see you.

I see how hard you're working just to stay above water. I see the effort it takes just to get dressed. I see you showing up even when every part of you wants to disappear. I see you getting through a day without falling apart.

That's not laziness. That's grief.

And grief doesn't care about your to-do list. It doesn't care about your deadlines or your responsibilities or the expectations other people have of you.

It just shows up. Heavy and relentless. And demands everything you have.

So, give yourself grace. Stop measuring yourself against who you were before. Stop comparing your grief-self to your before-self.

That person existed before loss rewrote everything. Before the weight settled in. Before you knew what this kind of pain felt like.

You're doing the best you can. And right now, your best looks different than it used to.

And that's okay.

The dishes can wait. The emails can wait. The laundry can wait.

You're not lazy. You're just trying to survive the unsurvivable.

Written by: Aimee Suyko - In Their Footsteps

26/02/2026

24/02/2026

Everyone remembers the last ordinary day before everything changed forever. It’s the day that seems so unremarkable in hindsight, yet it becomes the line dividing “before” and “after.” You replay it endlessly, searching for clues you missed, moments you didn’t cherish enough. It’s a day that stays with you, not for its importance but for how suddenly and irrevocably it became the backdrop to a life you can never return to.

23/02/2026

For your consideration

There’s a particular kind of grief that often goes unnamed. It’s not the grief of losing someone we love or even the grief that accompanies a devastating diagnosis.

23/02/2026

A lovely poem

When I'm no longer with you
I'll tell you where I'll be
I'll be waving from along that line
Where blue sky kisses sea

I'll be resting on the cloud that's shaped
Just like a bird that sings
And dancing through the puddles
That have fallen from its wings

I'll be knitting leaves for autumn
With pink blossom in my hair
Whilst sitting on a branch
That lifts me ten feet in the air

I'll be painting all the colours
When the sun begins to rise
And as it comes to set against
The dusky, evening skies

I'll be keeping a collection
Of a hundred billion lights
That I'll be stringing up above the clouds
As stars each night

So when you want to look for me
But don't know where I'm found
Just search the skies, the ocean
And the world that's all around

And look for how I've painted
All the colours of the sun
Look for how the stars all gather
When the day is done

Watch the clouds arrange and change
Themselves through different shapes
Feel the early morning,
Dawning sun upon your face

Watch the blossom from my hair
Appearing on the trees
Watch the rain fall softly
Like my knitted autumn leaves

Then dance through all the puddles,
Climb a branch that's ten-feet high
And wave to me along that line
Where blue sea kisses sky

*****

Becky Hemsley 2024
Beautiful artwork by Svetlana Aristova

This poem is from my second grief and loss collection, here: https://amzn.to/4qDZK9b
(affiliate link)

23/02/2026

21/02/2026

Www.healingtheloss.com

21/02/2026

21/02/2026

You are the only ‘expert’ in your grief.

Grief doesn’t follow instructions. It doesn’t move in straight lines. And no matter how much support surrounds you, no one else is living inside your loss. Only you know what it takes to get through a day.
Carry it your way.
Some days that might mean speaking their name often. Other days it might mean holding everything close and saying very little. Both are grief, both are real.
Speak it your way.
Whether your grief comes out in words, silence, tears, anger, or quiet reflection, it is yours. It does not have to be softened for other people’s comfort or reshaped to fit someone else’s understanding.
Live it your way.
There is no prize for doing grief “well.” No timeline that proves your love. What matters is that you keep finding your own way forward, at your own pace, in your own voice.
You are the only expert in your grief.
And however you are carrying it today, that is ok, that is enough.