30/07/2025
Chapter 1: The Shattering Moment
There is no preparation for the moment you lose a child. Nothing in the world can soften the blow of that news. Whether it was a phone call, a knock on the door, or being right there when it happened—your world split in half. There is life before, and there is life after.
The moment I found out about Jayln, it was as if time collapsed. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. The sounds around me blurred. I remember thinking, This can’t be real. This isn’t happening. But it was. And from that moment on, the world looked different. Colder. Quieter. Unfair.
In those early days, you may feel numb one moment and completely wrecked the next. You may forget to eat, or eat just to fill the silence. You may sleep for hours or not at all. Everything becomes “before” and “after.” And nothing seems to fit anymore—not your clothes, not your home, not even your own skin.
Grief isn’t just sadness. It’s disorientation. It’s anger. It’s longing. It’s emptiness. It’s the question that never gets answered: Why my child?
If you are in that shattering moment now, let me offer you this: breathe. Just breathe. Don’t try to solve it, fix it, or make sense of it. Right now, your only job is to survive. One hour at a time. One breath at a time. That is enough.
You don’t need to be strong. You don’t need to have answers. You don’t even need to get out of bed today, if that’s what your grief needs. This moment is heavy. It should be. Because your love for your child was heavy too. Love like that never leaves quietly.
You are not broken because you’re in pain. You are grieving because you loved deeply. And that love still lives inside you.