11/09/2026
These past few weeks have been extremely difficult, and I’m still trying to find the words.
Sometimes we say, “I’ll be fine,” because we don’t know what else to say. We appreciate your kindness, but sometimes we need the conversation to end so we can grieve privately, remember our people, and feel things we can’t explain yet. If I just nod or shake my head, please understand that my heart may have more in it than my words can carry.
I don’t know that we ever truly “get past” losing someone. I think we learn to carry the love and the hurt together.
It makes you look at your own life. How much time do we have left? Have we told our families our wishes? Have we said what matters? None of us is promised tomorrow, but loss makes that truth feel much closer.
There’s so much I’d like to say that I can’t put into words.
I’ve always been someone who watches, listens, and takes things in. That’s the survivor in me—the child who learned to pay attention and somehow made it this far. I love people. I care deeply about my community. But lately, I’ve asked myself: Does what I do matter? Is it helping? Is anything changing?
I’m sharing that because I think we all need to ask ourselves those questions sometimes.
I’m still praying through mine. I know I want my family to feel loved. I want people to know someone cared enough to show up. I want to stand for what’s right and help make things better while I’m here.
I can’t decide how much time I have left. But with God’s help, I can decide what I do with it.
And right now, I’m asking Him to help me live the rest of my life with purpose—even while my heart is hurting. 🙏