05/17/2026
Today marks another year since my son Damien passed away, and I honestly don’t have deep words of wisdom today. Just truth.
I woke up feeling heavy. Quiet. Empty.
Not broken in the loud way people expect grief to look… just emotionally far away from everything.
There are losses in this life that permanently change the way you experience the world. Losing a child is one of them.
Grief is such a lonely thing sometimes, especially years later when the rest of the world has continued on and people assume the pain must be gone by now. But losing a child changes you forever.
You continue living because you have to.
You smile because others need you to.
You build a life around the emptiness.
But deep down, there will always be a part of you waiting for someone who isn’t coming home.
I miss him.
I miss who he would have become.
I miss hearing his name in my house.
I miss the life we never got to live together.
And some anniversaries don’t bring tears first. They bring emptiness. A quiet numb feeling that sits heavy in your chest all day long.
So today I’m allowing myself grace.
No pretending.
No forcing happiness.
Just love, remembrance, and surviving this day the best I can.
If you know this kind of grief… I’m holding space for you today too 🖤
