Moments Of You

There are no right words for death. Only echoes.

Sometimes it feels like everything should stop when someone you love dies—the clocks, the birds, the internet, the dishwasher mid-cycle. But life doesn’t freeze. It carries on, while you stand still, holding the sharp and shapeless weight of grief.

This post is not a guide or a how-to. It’s a moment. One of those Moments of You. The ones when time feels thick and strange, when tears fall mid-laugh, and silence becomes its own kind of companion.

The Stillness After
After the calls, the casseroles, and the condolences…it gets quiet. That’s where most of grief lives—not in the ceremony, but in the Tuesday mornings when you instinctively pick up the phone to call them. In the sock drawer you haven’t opened since they folded it. In the smell of their favorite lotion or the way light hits the living room at 4PM.

This is the stillness we don’t talk about enough. It doesn’t demand your attention, but it surrounds you. It shows up in ordinary places with extraordinary ache.

And it’s okay to sit in it. It’s okay to not rush back into noise.
Grief has its own timeline, and you don’t owe anyone a schedule.

The Myth of Moving On
We are told we need to “move on.” But what if grief isn’t something to get over, but something we learn to live beside?

You don’t forget. You integrate. You carry.

Sometimes grief is loud and full of tears.
Sometimes it’s a quiet moment folding laundry with one sock missing.
Sometimes it’s rage. Sometimes it’s numb.
Sometimes it’s laughing at an old voicemail, surprised at the joy.

Grief is not linear, and neither is healing. You can be okay and not okay in the same hour. That doesn’t mean you’re broken—it means you’re human.

Creating a New Kind of Connection
Eventually, you start to find them in new places:
A song that wasn’t theirs, but now always will be.
A phrase you say that suddenly sounds like them.
A moment of clarity you know they would’ve love to hear about.

They don’t disappear. They become part of the fabric. Not behind you, but within you.

A Moment Just for You
If you’re grieving today, take this moment.

Breathe in deeply. Exhale slowly.
Close your eyes.
Picture their smile, or their hands, or their laugh.
Let yourself cry. Let yourself remember.
Let yourself feel, even if it’s nothing.

You don’t have to be strong all the time.
You just have to be real.

Grief is the proof that love was here. That it mattered.
That they mattered.
So even in the ache, there’s honor.
Even in the silence, there’s still connection.

You are not alone in your stillness. This moment is yours, and it’s enough.