Grief

31st May 2026

Grief is like glitter. In the beginning it’s everywhere, on your hands, in your hair, scattered across every corner of your life. You try to clean it up, to restore some sense of order.
For a while it seems like you’ve succeeded. But one day you move some furniture or open a drawer, and there it is again. A tiny sparkle that catches the light and reminds you of what you lost. It doesn’t go away completely, it settles, becomes quieter, less overwhelming. You learn to live with it, to carry it gently.
Years later when you find a bit of that glitter tucked behind a shelf, you may smile, maybe laugh. Because it reminds you of love, of connection, someone who mattered deeply.
Eventually something will catch your eye, a photo, a favorite song, a familiar scent and instead of pain you will feel warmth.
That’s the quiet truth about grief. It stays with you, but it changes. It becomes part of your story, a soft echo of the love that never really left.