I was writing out holiday cards and as I searched for addresses in my address book, I stumbled across my mom’s address. The address that would be her final place to live before she died a little over a year ago. It caught me off guard to see her name and it was a harsh reminder that she’s no longer there and I won’t be sending her a card this year.

Awww the many landmines that lay in wait when grief is in the air. Landmines we step into when we are least expecting it and it cuts deep. Every single time.

But as I continued to address cards and page through my address book, I couldn’t help but notice a pattern that tugged at my heart just a little bit more. There were several addresses that were no longer valid because someone I cared about had died and I won’t be mailing a card to them either.

A silly little address book was yet another reminder of how much can change from year to year. It was a reminder that life doesn’t come with promises or guarantees.

My address book is shrinking and my heart hurts knowing I won’t be sending birthday cards, or holiday cards to a few more people this year.

The death of loved ones feels so final and it changes so many things in our lives. Things that we can’t possibly anticipate or understand when death shows up at the door.

And the grief that accompanies death seems to show up at the most inconvenient of times and it doesn’t care about what you’re doing or where you are.

The smallest of things can send a jolt through your mind, body, and heart. Things that shove the reality of loss in your face and remind you that your life is different now and your loved one isn’t coming back.

Rationally, I know my mom is gone. She died and took her last breath as I held her hand. But I still have moments when I struggle to accept it and sometimes it doesn’t feel real. I still have moments when I just want to hear her voice and listen to her saved voicemails in between the tears.

But seeing my mom’s name in my address book was difficult and it turned the volume of my grief way up. Instead of humming softly in the background, grief jumped off the page and screamed out loud.

It’s yet one of many reminders that will continue to make an appearance in the days, weeks, and months ahead. And as I continue to miss her and so many others, the reminders are painful and my heart continues to ache.

The truth is, life keeps moving and we will all continue to lose people we care about and love over the years. And as difficult as it is to accept that, it’s a reality that human beings must face and deal with.

Address books will continue to shrink over time and people who left footprints on our hearts will get crossed off the holiday mailing list. But I also know that part of living life is adding new names and addresses to the address book that helps to keep track of those we come to love and care about.

The new doesn’t replace the old and there are some holes that can never be filled.

But life somehow keeps moving and people have no choice but to learn how to move with it. Even after a devastating loss.

I won’t be sending any more holiday cards to my mom but I will never stop honoring her. Perhaps I can write a letter to her once in a while even though I have no place to send it.

If only we could send letters or cards to heaven. And if only our loved ones could write back. I would give anything to write in a new address for my dear sweet mom and send it to heavens door.

If your address book is shrinking or you have someone special you can no longer send a card or letter to, please know I”m thinking about you and holding space in my heart for you and your grief.

We are in this together and it’s important you do whatever you need to tend to your aching heart. Give yourself grace and give yourself permission to grieve.

When I paged through my address book, grieving was the only thing that made sense and there will be times when it’s the only thing that makes sense for you too. Because grief is a beautiful testament to how much we love.

With Love -

michele