Happy Easter 🤍 This morning I was thinking about a table. Not a perfect one—just one of those long holiday tables where there’s too much food, people talking over each other, chairs scraping, someone asking you to pass something every five seconds. And at that table, there was a woman sitting right in the middle of it all. Everyone else was in it—laughing, telling stories, doing the whole Easter thing. She wasn’t. She kept picking up her phone, opening a message thread, staring at a name, then locking it again. Not once. Not twice. Over and over. Nobody said anything to her about it. Because from the outside, it just looked like she was distracted. But you and I know better than that. That’s what holidays can do. They don’t just show up as “celebrations.” They highlight the empty seat without ever pointing to it directly. They replay versions of the day that used to exist, side by side with the one you’re sitting in now. And it can feel like you’re the only one who notices. Here’s what stayed with me though— At some point, someone at that table said something stupid. Not even funny, just stupid. And it caught her off guard. She laughed. Quick. Real. Gone in a second. But it was there. And no, it didn’t fix anything. It didn’t mean she had moved on or that the day suddenly made sense. It just meant… for one second, something else made it through. That’s what I want you to hold onto today. Hope isn’t this big, glowing feeling that shows up and changes the whole day. It’s smaller than that. It’s the moment you take a bite of something and actually taste it. It’s the second you forget to be sad and then remember again. It’s the part of you that’s still capable of responding to life, even when part of you is somewhere else. If today feels hard, you’re not missing the point of the holiday. You’re experiencing it honestly. And if even one small moment slips through today—one breath, one laugh, one tiny pause where it doesn’t feel so sharp— let that be enough.

I feel like getting hit with another wave of grief just now is taking me down further this time. Im trying to keep telling myself that this wont last and itll get better but the anxiety and tears feel worse. Got one of the anniversaries next month which i know is on my mind as well but im struggling and this is so out of my comfort zone to even be posting this.

I’ve been wishing to have a dream with him so bad. I heard dreams could be visitations, I also heard that your soul detaches from your body when you’re dreaming. Unfortunately, my dream last night wasn’t a good dream! He was struggling and I wanted to help him and held him on my chest and tried to comfort him. I hope he’s at peace. I can’t bear the fact that he’s still suffering! He ended his life and I hope he’s in a good place. He was such a wonderful child! He taught me how to be a mom and he’s now teaching me how to love without his physical presence. I pray one day I get to see him again! 💗🙏🏻

What a humbling honor to be featured and quoted by The Mirror as an expert on ambiguous grief in relation to the Savannah Guthrie case. To be trusted to speak into something this complex—where the pain lives in the uncertainty, the unanswered, the unfinished—means more than I can fully put into words. My hope is that this sheds light for those navigating the confusion and weight of not having clear answers, and offers even a small sense of understanding in the middle of something so brutal. https://www.themirror.com/entertainment/savannah-guthrie-ambiguous-loss-grief-1764507