What I Know Now
Ten years after Catherine’s death, seven years into my marriage with Rachel, I finally understand:
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Grief isn’t the opposite of love—it’s love with nowhere to go.
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Loving again isn’t betrayal—it’s proof the heart can hold infinite love.
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The dead don’t ask us to stop living. That permission is ours to give ourselves.
Now, when I visit Catherine’s grave, I don’t beg her for guidance. I simply say, “Thank you—for teaching me how to love once. Because of you, I had the courage to love again.”
The roses I leave aren’t for mourning anymore. They’re for gratitude.
