By Kyra Oakland

Honoring grief means allowing it to come, overcome, soak in, and eventually move forward. But sitting with it for too long leads to a spiral. It’s a delicate balance between feeling and functioning.

Sometimes, I laugh at it all—because, really, how is it possible that I’ll never be able to talk to him again? It sounds like the most absurd thing, yet it’s the undeniable truth.

In the blink of an eye, everything you once knew can change. The way you perceive the past, present, and future becomes tainted. Life has always had a timer, but now I can hear the constant ticking.

Grief isn’t linear. Some moments, I feel everything all at once, overwhelming me to the point where I either want to curl into a fetal position or scream at the next person I see. Other times, I can pinpoint a trigger. For example, when people talk about their siblings in the present tense, it makes me jealous. Don’t get me wrong—I love hearing about their siblings. They’re lucky not to be in the dead brother club. But jealousy creeps in. I remind myself to feel that emotion fully then let it go and keep going.

That’s why I turn to the basics. Move my body. Make my bed. Wash my face. Go on a walk. Cook food. These small acts keep me grounded most days. 

I was partially inspired by my therapist to share my grief—not only to offer people a perspective on such a heavy subject, but also to track my own thoughts and emotions. I hope that years from now, I can reflect on this version of myself and see how far I’ve come. Hopefully.

Simply yours, Ky