N8tivegirl

A Letter From Where I Am Now

If I had known that moment would be our last,

I might have lingered longer.

I might have held you tighter.

I might have said the small things that felt understood but were never spoken aloud.

But please hear this—

there are no regrets where I am now.

There is peace here.

A fullness I never knew while I was still learning to breathe through pain and time.

I am not burdened. I am not afraid. I am home.

What I want for you—more than anything—is that you live.

Live without carrying guilt like a second skin.

Live without apologizing for surviving.

Taste life. Laugh deeply. Love freely.

Do not shrink yourself in my absence.

When you truly understand what it means to be absent from the body and present with Him,

you realize that love doesn’t end—it changes form.

I see you.

I am nearer than you think.

Not in the way you remember me, but in the way you feel peace arrive without explanation.

If I could offer you one piece of wisdom, it would be this:

love.

Love generously.

Give it. Show it. Inhale it. Exhale it.

Let love be the loudest thing you carry.

Do not allow anyone—or anything—to steal your peace or your joy.

They are sacred.

I miss you in the way love misses love.

And I love you more than words ever allowed me to say while I was there.

When you feel comfort without knowing why,

when strength rises in you unexpectedly,

when peace settles your heart in quiet moments—

that is me reminding you:

You are not alone.

You never have been.

And you never will be.

Until we meet again,

live well.

Live fully.

Live loved.

Prayer for When Grief Returns

God of all comfort,

You see the places in my heart that still ache.

You know the names I whisper in the quiet

and the tears I don’t always explain.

Thank You for the love that never truly leaves,

for the memories that remind me I was deeply known.

When the absence feels heavy,

be my peace.

When the silence feels loud,

be my presence.

Help me grieve without guilt,

remember without breaking,

and live fully without feeling like I am leaving them behind.

Hold those I love in Your care,

and hold me too—

until the day we meet again.

Amen.

A Blessing for Those Who Grieve

May you be wrapped in a peace that does not rush you,

a peace that understands your tears without asking them to stop.

May the love you shared never feel lost,

but transformed—

carried in memories, whispered in quiet moments,

and held safely in the presence of God.

May you release guilt where it lingers,

and receive permission to live fully again—

to laugh without apology,

to breathe without heaviness,

to move forward without feeling like you are leaving anyone behind.

May the ache in your chest soften with time,

not because the love was small,

but because it was real and eternal.

May you sense them near—not in sorrow,

but in warmth, in peace, in gentle reminders

that love does not end with goodbye.

And when the days feel long,

may God meet you there—

holding what you cannot carry,

restoring what feels broken,

and reminding you that you are never alone.

Amen.