07/31/2026
I want to share the reality of grief in the hope that someone reading this feels seen. Maybe you’ll connect with it today, or maybe years from now you’ll remember these words when grief catches you off guard and realize you’re not alone.
I remember almost all of my dreams, and I dream a lot. Some are so vivid that I could draw a map of where I’ve been. They feel so real that I sometimes question whether they were only dreams.
This morning, I woke up crying after one of those dreams.
In it, my dad was talking to me, telling me that someone very close to me was going to pass away tomorrow. I felt completely helpless, confused, and broken. The emotions were so intense that I wanted to wake myself up, but I couldn’t. It felt like I was trapped inside it.
I stood in front of my dad, sobbing and pleading, “I can’t go through this again. I physically cannot survive that kind of pain again.”
When I finally woke up, the fear didn’t stay in the dream.
I’ve had a headache all day. I keep checking Life360 to make sure my family is safe. I keep reminding myself that everyone is okay, trying not to let the dream consume me.
This is what trauma can do.
My greatest losses happened 27, 16, and 11 years ago.
The grief doesn’t disappear.
The love doesn’t disappear.
The trauma doesn’t always disappear either.
What changes is that we learn to carry it. We learn the tools to move through the moments that unexpectedly bring it all rushing back.
Healing isn’t forgetting. It’s learning how to live while carrying what you’ve lost.
If you’ve ever had a moment where a dream, a song, a smell, or an ordinary day suddenly brought your grief to the surface, please know this: you’re not broken, and you’re not alone.
Grief doesn’t follow a timeline, and neither does healing. Sometimes, simply knowing someone else understands is the first step toward finding your footing again. ❤️