365 Days Without You

I’ve been asking myself this question every day for the past year. It’s a question I don’t have an easy answer to, and maybe I never will. Some days, the grief feels like a quiet whisper, and other days, it’s a thunderous roar, shaking every part of me. I’ve survived—if you can call it that—but the truth is, I’m still learning how to live without you.

This year has been filled with moments where I’ve reached for my phone to call you, only to remember you’re not there to answer. I’ve heard your voice in my head so many times, offering advice or comfort, and even though I know it’s just a memory, it’s kept me going.

I survived this year by holding on to everything you left behind—your love, your wisdom, your example of strength. I’ve leaned into the lessons you taught me, like how to find joy in the smallest things and how to keep going when life feels unbearable.

I’ve survived by allowing myself to feel everything: the pain, the anger, the deep sense of loss. I didn’t try to push it away, even though there were days when I desperately wanted to. Instead, I’ve embraced the tears and the heartbreak as part of the process of healing.

But I’ve also found ways to celebrate you. I’ve cooked your favorite meals, played your favorite songs, and told your stories to anyone who would listen. I’ve found pieces of you in the changing seasons, in the laughter of my family, and in the quiet moments when I feel your presence so strongly it’s as if you’re right here with me.

This year without you has been the hardest of my life, but it’s also shown me how deeply you are woven into the fabric of who I am. You’re in my every decision, my every step forward, and my every attempt to live a life that honors you.

I don’t know what the next year will bring, but I know I’ll carry you with me—just as I have this year. And in some strange way, I think you’ve been helping me survive all along.