Some Days

April 23, 2024

Some days you need her more than others– all days you need her.
Some days you feel as though she was just here, others as if she’s been gone for as long as you can remember. Grief is transformative and tricky like that.

Some days you look around and see her in everything– as if she’s just left the room, or even, dare I say, still here. Other days you look around, feeling suffocated by the empty spaces and the dark holes that have found every place she once was, every place she should be.

Some days you look in the mirror and smile as you stare at your reflection, but her smile. Other days you see her in the faces of strangers on the street, desperately wishing and wondering what she’d look like if it were actually her, right there in your path– your view.

Some days you wonder why her, most days you wonder why then, why so soon. Other days you find yourself at peace knowing she is free of pain and the ravenous disease that was depleting her from all the things that made her vibrant and grande.

Some days you question God and your faith. Other days you stand strong on the beliefs and hopes that she solidified in you since you were a child. You find faith and hope can be fickle and finite, if you let the darkness take hold. So you vow not to.

Some days grief is dominant, other days it lies dormant– but always there, always constant in some form or magnitude.

Some days you feel as if you cannot make it, as if you will not make it from the weight of this grief– from the weight of this loss. But you will, because eventually the “some days” get farther and farther between. The good days, the lighter days, the days of healing and renewed hope, those shine brighter. Those come quicker– appear more.

And while, all days life is changed, altered by the absence of someone great, someone wonderful. And all days you wish things were different. You wish she were still here. On all days, you carry her love and her legacy. And eventually, those days are the ones that help you not just survive, but live, truly live, until you can meet again.

And someday you will– meet again.
Some day.

xox, Chels

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A wife, mother and educator who has Indiana roots and a passionate spirit. Chelsea is a sappy romantic, coffee junkie, book collector, and person who wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s sarcastic, full of jokes, full of tears, and enjoys writing most when life gets messy or complicated. In 2017, Chelsea's mother passed away. Through her grief journey, she decided to take her mother’s advice and share her writing with the world. One day she gained the courage to honor her mother's wishes and write. It turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.

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