I had a 3 monthly care plan review with a nurse yesterday for Eils He thanked me for coming in each day to assist Eils with feeding her lunch and staff thank me often. I AM NOT there helping them out like a volunteer. I am there to be with Eils and provide the least I can still do for her and then spend time with her, holding her hand, cuddling her and letting her know much I love her. Do they see it as an obligation? This is the furthest from the truth for me. I wish, everyday that I could have her at home with me. I know they mean well, they care about Eils and all the residents but how they not see that I'm there everyday because I love her with all of me.

Friday night, I had to sit with my grief and truly honor it. It wasn’t easy, but I gave myself that space. By the weekend, I was able to step into a kind of joy I haven’t felt in years. So many people spoke life over me—saying they could see the change, the peace, the light. That meant everything, because I’ve done the work. And I’m especially grateful for Toni, who has walked beside me these past three years. 💞 I hosted 25 people for Easter this year… and it was a success. God is good.

Its been 10 years .. my grief is as strong as when they all passed… first my brother of heart attack, then I found my husband when he took his life, and 3 months later my mom from ovarian cancer a terrible death. … I still cry everyday.. so many reminders.. NEED help in finding support and ways to live with ALL these emotions, every day I go through all the stages of grief.. sometimes I look like a maniac.. what to do…

These were my thoughts on the 4th of April; This past year has been one of the hardest journeys any of us could have imagined. Grief has come in waves—sometimes quiet and heavy, sometimes overwhelming and unexpected. We’ve felt sadness, anger, confusion, and even moments of guilt for laughing or smiling again. Every emotion has been real, and every one of them has been a reflection of how deeply we love her. There isn’t a single day that has gone by without thinking of Sonja. Not one moment where she hasn’t been missed. The pain of losing her has changed us all, and in many ways, it always will. But I also know that I can’t live in the “what ifs” or in what could have been. As hard as it is, I won’t dwell there. Instead, I choose to honor Sonja’s memory by focusing on the beautiful life she did live—the love she gave, the joy she brought, and the light she left behind in all of us. So today, as much as this day marks one year without her, I’m choosing to see it differently. I’m choosing not to focus on the day we lost her—but on the 6,093 days we had her. Because to me, 6,093 days will always be greater than one. 6,093 days of her laughter. 6,093 days of her light. 6,093 days of memories, love, and moments that shaped who she was and who we are because of her. Those days mattered. Her life mattered. And her love didn’t end—it lives on in every one of us, in the way we remember her, speak her name, and carry her forward. Today is not just about grief. It’s about honoring Sonja—her life, her spirit, and the love she gave so freely. It’s about holding onto those 6,093 days and letting them shine brighter than the darkness of this one. Thank you, Toni 🫶🏼