Changing a life built around the people you love is difficult. It’s much like scraping decades-old paint from a wall. Some is easily removed, while others cling so tightly that you squeeze so hard that your knuckles turn white and your hands ache. What’s underneath looks strange, even a little bare. But with time, the old paint gives way. What remains isn’t perfect. You sand the areas you want to smooth out, and leave other places as they are, because it gives the wall character. You take what was and repaint it in the colors of your new life.
This is what my newest transition feels like. It’s not comfortable, but it’s necessary to keep moving forward. My life has never been a straight path; it’s an ongoing journey with twists, turns, and unexpected detours. Those detours have taught me about human strength and how to endure, adapt, and find grace in life’s most complex challenges. The support I’ve been given over the last four-plus years continues to sustain me, and I hold on to that as I move forward.
When Daniel passed, this long process of change began. He will always be a part of me. Memories of him flash through my mind; some I share, others I hold close and quietly acknowledge with a smile. Even as I peel back the layers of what was, I’m not erasing him; I’m making space for the next chapter while carrying the best of him within me.
Now, with my sister’s death, I find myself drawn back to my beginnings and to that little girl who looked up to her. I learned resilience by watching my sister navigate life’s challenges. She was my first example of what it meant to keep moving forward even when everything felt heavy. That shaped me in how I faced each hardship.
Grief does soften with time. However, it never disappears. It returns when another person you love leaves this world, and when it does, it can strike like lightning. The last lesson my sister gave me is that the work of rebuilding never ends. Every layer I peel away carries pain, but it also uncovers strength that has been there all along.
I will keep going and remember to make space for the love, the loss, and the life still ahead of me.

