Three Months Later

Is It Ever Easy?

Is losing someone ever really easy?

Back in February, I lost my grandfather. It’s been over three months now, and I haven’t truly made space in my life to grieve. I’ve kept moving forward, doing what needed to be done, but I haven’t taken much time to process what his absence actually means.

It was the first time I had found myself near where hope was held — and where goodbye came.

There’s something about being physically close to the place where everything changed that brings the loss into sharp focus. The reality began to settle in, and it hit me in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve been holding on, relying on whatever strength I can gather each day. I’m not great at admitting when I’m struggling — and I don’t often show it in my emotions. But today… it broke through.

He’s really gone.

I keep thinking about all the things I wish I had done differently — the moments I could’ve shared, the time I could’ve spent just sitting with him. We all have those what ifs, don’t we? They can’t change anything, but they have a way of surfacing when grief catches up to us. They force us to feel the things we’ve tried to keep buried.

Have you ever heard the song “One More Light” by Linkin Park? I’ve heard it a thousand times, but today… it hit me differently. It reminded me that I’m not alone in how I feel — that others have felt this kind of ache, too. I usually tell people it’s okay to not be okay. Today, I needed to remind myself of that truth.

We have the memories. Some fade with time, others stay etched into our hearts. And then there’s the pain — it shows up in unexpected ways. It reminds you of what’s missing, of how deeply someone mattered. And in that reminder, it changes you.

Grief has a way of making ordinary moments feel overwhelming. But even in that, I know this: God is with me.

This season won’t last forever. This life won’t last forever.
Death is the only thing with a 100% success rate.
But because of Jesus, even death doesn’t get the final say.

I’ll always love my grandfather. I’ll never forget him.
I’m thankful for the time we had — especially the little things, like riding with him in the truck a few months before he got sick. I had no idea that would become one of the last moments we’d share. It’s funny how those small moments grow in significance once they’re gone.

We all wish we had more time. That’s natural.
But would we really want them to suffer longer just so we could hold on a little tighter?
I’m not celebrating death. I’m not okay with any of it. But I am grateful that even in this pain, I know God is walking with me — and He is enough.

Just the other week, I went out to mow the lawn for the first time this season. I ran into a problem, and without thinking, I started to look up his number. That was my go-to move — call Grandpa. Ask him what to do.

Then I paused.
And I smiled a sad smile.
He won’t answer.
He’s not here anymore.

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Thank You, God,
For the time You gave me with my grandfather.
Thank You for being with me in the middle of this hurt.
You’ve been my comfort when the tears came quietly, and You’ve held my heart when I didn’t have the words.

When I am weak, You are strong.
Remind me daily of who You are.
Keep holding my family close.

I love You, Lord.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

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If you’re grieving, you’re not alone. If your heart feels heavy, take comfort in this:

“Be still, and know that I am God.” – Psalm 46:10