~ Donna Ashworth 

I’ve been thinking a lot about these words. They capture something raw and real about grief—and something that I'm experiencing in my own life. When we lose someone, it isn’t a single event that we eventually get over. Instead, it’s a continuous process, a gentle but relentless reminder that every day, in countless small moments, we feel that loss all over again.

There have been mornings when I wake up ready to start a new day, only to feel the sting of loss before I’ve even had my morning cup of tea. It might be the memory of his laugh, the way a song suddenly plays that reminds me of Eric, or just the quiet reminder that he is no longer here when I think to myself "I've got to remember to tell Eric about _____." The feeling isn’t a one-time shock—it’s a recurring experience that can hit at unexpected times.

This daily reminder is hard. It’s as if grief has its own rhythm: a cycle that repeats itself with each new day. And while it might get overwhelming, I’ve come to understand that this is part of the process. The process of grieving is not a list with boxes to check off and be done with—it’s a lifelong journey. It changes shape over time, teaching us how to carry our memories and honor the ones we’ve lost, even as we learn to live with their absence. And moving on isn’t about leaving grief behind or erasing the love that still fills the heart—it’s about weaving those memories into a new life. 

When Eric first died, I kinda thought that once the initial shock faded, I’d eventually “get over it” to some degree and then somehow go on living my life. But I'm learning that grief isn’t something you conquer; it’s something you learn to navigate... to live with beginning on day one and continuing forever. There are days when the weight of the loss feels unbearable, and others when a simple memory brings a warmth instead of sorrow. There’s no timeline, no neat conclusion—only a learned skill to stay afloat amidst the waves.

Some days, I find that giving myself permission to feel is the most compassionate act. I try to accept that it’s okay to feel my loss repeatedly—each day is a fresh start, but it also brings with it the reality of what’s missing. And in that vulnerability, there is also a quiet strength.

One thing I’ve discovered is that grief, as painful as it is, also means that the love and memories of Eric are ever-present. Every reminder is a testament to the impact he had on my life and the lives of our family and friends. Even as the pain resurfaces, so does the gratitude for having known and loved him.

I’ve learned to embrace those moments. When grief hits, I try to honor it by reflecting on a fond memory or simply by acknowledging that the love I feel is still there—even if it’s wrapped in sadness. It’s a reminder that losing someone doesn’t erase our connection; it simply transforms it. 

If you’re reading this and you’re navigating your own stormy sea of loss, know that you’re not alone. Grief is a journey we all experience differently, but the constant is that it comes in waves. Be kind to yourself. And be kind to those around you who might be silently facing their own repeated losses.

Let’s talk about it: How do you manage those moments when grief feels like it’s hitting you all over again? Whether it’s a small ritual, a memory that eases the pain, or simply taking a moment to breathe, I’d love to hear your story.

If you feel like chatting or want to explore this topic further, drop a comment below, send me a message, or explore thoughts I've shared in previous blogs. Sometimes, sharing our journeys makes the road a little easier.