Grief, a first hand experience.
I wrote this in January of 2023, just weeks after losing my dad. At the time, the pain was fresh, raw, and honestly too big to share out loud. So I wrote instead. I never hit publish—maybe because it felt too vulnerable, or maybe because I wasn’t ready to let the world into that part of my heart. But time has a way of shifting things, and now, looking back, I see the value in sharing this messy, honest piece of my grief. If you’re navigating your own loss, I hope these words find you gently and remind you that you’re not alone.
This is my grief journey
After losing my dad less than a month ago. I am sharing because through this experience I have connected to others in a way I didn't know was possible. I am hopeful maybe my experience will help someone else on their own path. I'll address it more below, but writing has been a significant part in my healing. I have the vehicle to help others with my website, a lot of our buyers are people going through hard times. Maybe I can help someone else navigate this awful experience. This is my attempt.
Grief. An experience I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. An experience you don't understand until you are punched in the face with it. People THINK they understand grief and loss, but in my experience, you just don't until it's happening to you.
I am new to this grief stuff, but I have some tips that might help.
1. You can't control it. Grief is the driver. I always thought grief was feeling sad, maybe overthinking a situation over and over, consuming you, but I really thought it was just sadness. OH woooooooow I was wrong. It's not just emotion, it's physical pain, it's losing chunks of time from your life, it's crawling into bed being ready to get some sleep, and pow - your brain starts with replaying it all. I used to enjoy taking a shower, now I dread it. Showers are now a place that no longer brings me peace, it's a place that brings my tears. They flow just like the water coming out of the shower.
2. You can't predict it. You may be in the middle a very happy moment and BOOM, the sadness just takes over.
3. They say it gets better over time. I'm not far enough out to say that's true, but I CAN say that it changes it's look. For me, it def has gotten better. I am now able to be around people and I am fine, it's now when I am alone it takes over.
4. Writing. I have been writing a LOT, sooooo much writing. A close friend told me they can't tell you anything that happened for about 18 months after their dad died. That freaked me out in a way I can't explain. But I don't want to forget this time. I mean, I do want to forget it all and bring my dad back. But I can't so I want to cherish the memories.
Grief doesn’t come with a map, and it sure as hell doesn’t follow any rules. But if sharing my experience helps even one person feel a little less alone in their own loss, then it’s worth putting these words into the world. I’m still in the thick of it—learning, writing, crying, remembering—but I’m also finding moments of peace, laughter, and light. If you're grieving too, just know you're not alone. We might be walking through different versions of the same storm, but we’re walking it together. And maybe, just maybe, that’s how we heal—one story, one connection, one breath at a time.