It’s still painful. And honestly maybe a little more because so much has happened that she should’ve been a part of. There’s been graduations with academic achievements, creations of life, heartbreaks that reshaped me, and countless small and beautiful moments of what if. And yes I believe her spirit continues to surround us. I know she’s seen it all. But still, it’s been 25 years of her physically not being here. 

It’s still painful. I remember the days exactly leading up to it as they were our last hug, our last conversation, and our last laughs. As I’ve grown older, I’ve replayed the conversations as well. And realized it was also our final goodbye. 

It’s still painful. Prayer and therapy – some say the two don’t work together. I’m a witness that they do. Both have helped me navigate the spaces between faith and healing, memory and acceptance. Prayer reminds me that love is eternal. Therapy reminds me that healing is not linear.

Grief has taught me that it doesn’t end, it transforms. We often talk about the stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—as if they’re steps on a ladder, leading upward to closure. But in truth, they circle back around, sometimes years later, sometimes when you least expect it. One moment you’re at peace, the next you’re right back in the ache of loss. And that’s okay. It means you’re still connected, still remembering, still human.

After 25 years, I’ve come to see grief as love that has nowhere to go. It shifts and softens, but it never disappears. It shows up in the way I love others, in the lessons I pass on, in the strength I didn’t know I had. It’s in every “I wish she could see this,” and every quiet moment where I feel her presence just beyond reach.

Grief is continuous—but so is love. And maybe that’s the balance: learning to live with both.

If you’ve ever lost someone you love, you know that time doesn’t erase the ache. It simply changes the way it lives within you. Grief becomes a part of your story, woven into who you are and how you love. Grief isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s proof that love once lived deeply and still lingers beautifully.

So wherever you are in your journey; whether it’s been 25 days or 25 years, be gentle with yourself. Healing isn’t about forgetting; it’s about carrying their memory forward, one day, one breath, one prayer at a time.

To those who understand this kind of loss, I see you. And I hope you find peace in knowing that love never truly leaves, it just finds new ways to stay.