Late Blooming Lessons – Life’s Second Chapter
A journey of discovery. A discovery of self. Pieces of old. Paired with pieces of new.
#10: The Grief No One Talks About
“There’s no funeral for the living who leave, only silent spaces where they used to belong.”
“Crazy how you can have loved ones looking down on you who would’ve killed to watch your babies grow, yet there are others who are able to and simply choose not to.”
That quote strikes somewhere deep. A space not often touched by words. A place where grief lives beneath the surface. Not just the grief of death, but of absence. Of disappointment. Of being left behind by those who could have stayed. But didn’t. Or simply chose not to.
For the past eleven years, I’ve walked the unpredictable journey of grief. A road no one chooses. Twists. Turns. Sudden drops. No warning. No matter how much time passes…that ache never leaves.
Life moves on. And most days, so do I.
But then there are days, sometimes whole weeks, when I feel frozen. Stuck. Watching the world move around me while I stay still. Grief, even years later…still finds a way to stop time.
And yet. There are flickers. Unexpected. Moments of joy. Of peace. Of hope.
But here’s what no one prepares you for. What no one tells you.
Some of the deepest grief doesn’t come from death.
It comes from losing people who are still here. Still living. Still breathing.
The ones I believed would always be part of my circle. My life.
The ones who said they’d show up. Or didn’t need to.
The ones I leaned on. And believed leaned on me too.
They’re still out there. Living. Breathing. Laughing.
But they’re gone in every way that matters to me.
And this kind of grief?
It doesn’t come with condolences. Cards. Or casseroles.
It comes with silence. Confusion. A slow realization.
This kind of loss is a choice.
Their absence is a choice.
And that’s the hardest part to accept.
So I sit with it.
I think about the ones I’ve lost.
The ones who would be here if they could. Who would show up for every birthday. Every little win. Every ordinary Tuesday. Who would love my children. My grandchildren. With presence. Unconditionally. They never had the chance.
I remind myself: I can hold space for both the pain of what was lost – and the peace of what’s still possible.
It’s devastating to recognize that someone who can be present…chooses not to be.
And so, I made a choice too. Close one chapter. Begin another.
I choose to show up. Fully. Freely. With love.
I choose my peace. Over doubt.
I choose my worth. Over silence.
In the quiet moments, the difficult moments I’m reminded of those who aren’t present, yet always here. Still cheering. Still loving. Still near. Their presence reminds me that real love doesn’t walk away. It stays.
“Sometimes we must mourn the living, too — and in doing so, we make space for our own healing.
#griefjourney #healing #choosingme #realconnections #showup #familylove #breakingcycles #emotionalgrowth #peaceoverpain