My precious Zoey. Zoey was my last living connection to the life Josh, my late husband, and I shared. I rescued her three months before Josh came into my life. She was there through our years together, a silent witness to our love, our ordinary days and the life we built. When Josh died, Zoey was there, too. I remember sitting on the closet floor, surrounded by his clothes, trying to hold on to anything that still carried his scent. In those moments when the grief felt unbear

There was a time when I believed that if my grief became lighter, my love for Josh somehow became smaller. I never would have said those words out loud, but somewhere deep inside, that’s what I believed. Because when someone you love dies, the pain can become the only thing that still feels connected to them. It becomes the thread you hold onto. And the thought of that thread becoming thinner can feel frightening. After Josh died unexpectedly, just nine months after our weddi

Losing a friend can leave an ache that words can’t fully explain. It’s a quiet, persistent pain that shows up in unexpected moments. You might reach for your phone to send a message, only to realize they’re not there. A memory may surface out of nowhere, or something good happens, and you feel the absence of your friend. Sometimes, the loss comes from death. Other times, it stems from the end of a friendship with someone who is still alive. Both types of loss carry grief, and