In a twist of fate, I was recently asked to share about the experience of loss. The topic instantly took me back to 2015 — the year Mommy died. There were no warnings, no long goodbyes, no time to prepare our hearts. One moment we were living our ordinary lives, and the next, the world turned upside down. The three days we spent in the hospital felt like a blur. Before I could even fully process what had happened, I found myself arranging funeral details, coordinating with relatives, and dealing with estate taxes. Grief had no space to breathe. Responsibility came first. Survival mode took over.
Loss did not hit me in one dramatic moment. Instead, it arrived quietly — in waves, even years later in the most unexpected ways. Sometimes in the middle of laughter during random conversations, a thought would suddenly cross my mind: "Mommy would have loved this moment". And just like that, the joy would be mixed with a deep ache.
I realized that grief does not follow a timeline. It does not ask for permission. It lingers in memories, in milestones, in ordinary days that suddenly feel incomplete. The pain never fully disappears — it simply changes its form. Over time, it becomes softer, more familiar, like a scar you learn to live with. Cliché as it may sound, I have come to believe that everything happens for a reason. Not the kind of reason that is immediately clear or comforting. Often, it makes no sense in the moment. It feels unfair. It feels abrupt. It leaves questions that may never be fully answered. But what felt like an ending back then, brought lessons and realizations later on.
Amidst all this, I found comfort in faith. I hold on to the quiet assurance that Mommy is home with the Lord — whole, healed, and at peace. This belief does not erase the longing, but it gives meaning to the emptiness. It reminds me that love does not end with death. It continues in memories, in lessons she left behind, and in the person I am still becoming because of her.
Loss changes us. It reshapes our priorities, our timeline, and even how we understand love. I used to think loss is such a bad thing, but somewhere in between then and now, my perspective has changed. I would never say loss is easy, but it taught me to hold people closer, to value ordinary moments, and to trust that even in heartbreak, His grace is present.
