The Ritual
Grief does not end with time. It becomes a ritual—a quiet returning to those we continue to love.
Grief does not end with time. It becomes a ritual—a quiet returning to those we continue to love.
A missed coffee became an extraordinary reminder of what it means to matter to another person.
It isn’t always the extraordinary moments that make us long for someone beside us. Sometimes it’s simply wanting someone to remember the shape of our days.
A poem about waiting, uncertainty, and the quiet courage of continuing without knowing what comes next.
Hope is not believing that love will never hurt us again. It is choosing to remain open, even after it has.