Consider This: 10/24/2022

I’ve been thinking a lot about grief lately. A few months ago, I became a new parent. Being a new mom has been joyful, chaotic, and wonderful. But like many new life
experiences—especially big changes—the transition has created opportunities for me to become reacquainted with my grief. When I am least expecting it, I think about
what my grandfathers would do if they could hold my daughter. I imagine what my grandmothers would say if they could see me becoming a mom. The twinkle in their
eyes and the echo of their pride still lift me, even as their absence feels like an ache I can’t sooth or solve.

With time, I have come to see my grief as a companion. It doesn’t exhaust or disappoint me like it used to. It simply accompanies me. Sometimes lifting my spirits as I remember my loved one with pride and sadness, and other times transporting me back in time.

Artist Ruth Chan (@ohtruth) illustrates the movement of grief in such a delightful, meaningful way. I share her work with the hope that no matter where you are on your
own journey with grief, I hope that you might be gentle with yourself, that you might cherish the love that connects you to that which you grieve (even if that love is
complicated), and that you might even consider sharing your grief with a friend. For grief that is shared, is love that is savored.

My daughter will never meet the ones I grieve, but I think she’ll come to know them, because she’s going to come to know me—and they are now a part of me too, baked
in amidst all of my layers of butter, flour, sugar and salt.