Dan is my second one. And maybe that’s what people don’t often say about grief and healing—moving forward doesn’t mean replacing what was lost. It doesn’t mean forgetting. It simply means continuing to live.
I’m forty-one years old. I’ve been married twice. I’ve buried someone I loved deeply, and I’ve found love again when I believed it was no longer possible. And if there’s one thing I know now, it’s this: the heart is stronger than we imagine. It can shatter and still keep beating. It can love again without erasing what came before.
But sometimes, if we’re lucky, it turns out exactly the way it was meant to.
