19/04/2026
Grief is like glitter. In the beginning, it’s everywhere...on your hands, in your hair, scattered across every corner of your life. You try to clean it up, to restore some sense of order. And for a while, it seems like you’ve succeeded. But then, one day, you move a sofa or open a forgotten drawer, and there it is again. A tiny sparkle that catches the light and reminds you of what you lost.
It doesn’t go away completely. It settles, becomes quieter, less overwhelming. You learn to live with it, to carry it gently. And years later, when you find a bit of that glitter tucked behind a shelf, you might smile. Maybe even laugh. Because it reminds you of love, of connection, of someone who mattered deeply.
Eventually, something will catch your eye...a photo, a favorite song, a familiar scent, and instead of pain, you’ll feel warmth. That’s the quiet truth about grief. It stays with you, but it changes. It becomes a part of your story, a soft echo of the love that never really left.
