When you lose your person
Hi y’all, I usually keep this space light—filled with travel snapshots, outfit inspiration, and musings about the everyday joys of life. But today, I need to let my heart speak, because something has shifted. Something heavy. A few days ago, in the still darkness of early morning, my mother woke me up with the kind of news no one is ever really ready for. My grandmother had passed away during the night. I sat there, quiet, still, trying to process it. I got up, took a shower, and then I prayed. That day, I functioned like a machine—working from home, scrolling through social media, playing with my baby niece. I did everything but feel. And yet, the sadness was there, hovering, waiting. My grandmother—my safe place, my storyteller, my comfort—was gone. Like many, I had four grandparents. But I only truly knew two: my paternal grandparents. My maternal grandmother died when my mother was just a child, and my maternal grandfather passed when I was still young—I barely remember him. T...
