“Grief may have changed your path, but it didn’t end your story.”
You are still here.
Reading these words. Breathing. Living.
Maybe you didn’t think you’d get this far.
Maybe the grief felt too heavy. The days too long. The nights too quiet.
But here you are.
And that matters.
It doesn’t mean the pain is gone. Or that you won’t cry again. Or that you suddenly have it all figured out.
It means you kept going.
You let the light in — even if only a flicker at a time.
You made room for memory, for sorrow, for healing.
You spoke their name. You honored your own.
Grief did not break you.
It reshaped you. And still — you rose.
There is no finish line. No final test.
But if there were, it might be this:
*To remember with love. To live with grace. To continue with open hands.*
You are still here. And the world is better because of it.
Place both hands over your heart. Close your eyes and breathe deeply. Whisper: 'I am still here. And I choose to keep becoming.' Let that truth root in you like a blessing.
Write a final letter to yourself. A love letter. Thank yourself for showing up, for surviving, for healing. Say what you need to hear. Sign it with care — you’ve earned it.
Morgan E. “I didn’t think I’d make it through the first year after losing my son. But this journey gave me breath when I had none. It didn’t erase the pain, but it helped me carry it with more tenderness. I’m still here. And now I know — that counts for something.”
You are proof that grief does not end life — it reshapes it.