Grief is like walking up a mountain
Grief is like walking up a mountain—rocky, steep, and unpredictable.
From a distance, the mountain looks full of life, full of beauty, full of love. But as you begin to climb, you feel lost. Unsure. Full of dread.
You take a few steps and already feel like giving up. It’s too hard, too painful. But somehow, you find the courage to keep going.
Then the weather shifts. A light drizzle turns into a downpour. Thunder rolls in, and lightning strikes. You scramble for cover—somewhere to hide, to hibernate, to wait out the storm. And eventually, the skies begin to clear. The sun peeks through. The wind softens. And you keep walking.
The path is anything but smooth. It’s rocky, uneven—full of sharp turns, wrong turns, and unexpected detours. But as the seasons pass, you begin to feel more prepared for what may come. You start to trust your footing again.
And one day, you stumble upon a lake. Quiet. Still. Breathtaking. You sit in awe of its beauty—and in its reflection, you see yourself. Changed. Stronger. Softer. You smile, maybe for the first time in a while. You feel something you weren’t sure you’d feel again - hope.
You hold on to that hope—something to carry you through the next storm.
And as you continue to walk, you glance toward the sky, remembering what once was. Your heart feels warmer now, carrying both love and loss in the same beat.
With each season, you discover new trails, new views, new ways to carry what can never be left behind. You keep walking—always walking—knowing each step is part of the journey.