Rising from the Ashes of Grief: A Journey of Shedding, Becoming, and Sparking Purpose
Me and my dad in my grandparents’ backyard when I was a little girl.
Today is my dad’s birthday. My fourth one without him, he would have been 80.
All weekend, I’ve been in a place of deep reflection . . . allowing myself to feel my dad’s absence, sitting in solitude (sometimes with a cat) in nature, letting myself sit in the quiet reverence that grief brings. Grief doesn’t just show up as pain; sometimes it arrives as new perspective. As cherished memories. As intensified gratitude.
As this day approached, I felt the stirrings begin almost two months ago . . . not of sadness, but of something deep inside me trying to surface. So, at the start of this month, I did something that’s been on my heart for a long time: I started writing my book.
It’s still in the very early stages, but this project has lived inside me for a while. The concepts, the feelings, the beautiful metaphorical symbolism . . . these pieces have been bouncing around in my head and heart and on the pages of my notebooks, waiting for the moment I was ready to bring them to life. And this month, as I sat with the memory of my dad, I began writing one of the first chapters . . . the one about grief.
Not just the grief of my dad’s passing, but how grief itself can become a process of personal evolution and transformation.
I realized quickly that this chapter was more than a chapter . . . it was part of my continued healing. Writing about my dad, about what his life and loss have taught me, felt like both a tribute and a release. Documenting my journey became the lens through which I could finally acknowledge how far I’ve come.
These past three and a half years have been the most transformational of my life.
Losing my dad forced me to examine my life and the systems I had spent a lifetime trying to fit into - systems that shaped everything from my self-worth to my sense of safety. Rigid structures. Old patterns. Rules. Routines. Roles. And it became a process of shedding all the pieces and parts that weren’t really me.
And in the wake of this fire of grief, what has emerged for me over these past three years is:
Clarity
Courage
A renewed sense of purpose.
Grief didn’t just strip me down; it also gave me the space to rebuild.
Since his loss, I’ve gone back to college and earned my bachelor’s degree after a 20-year pause. I’ve pursued coaching certifications, started building a business, launched this blog, and now, I’m writing the book I once thought I’d never find the courage to write.
And each morning, I wake up thinking:
“I’ve been gifted with another day. What can I do with it?”
That one thought has become the fuel for this new chapter of my life. It’s what’s pushing me to dream bigger, look deeper, and create bolder. It’s what connects me back to my dad . . .
Because when I honor myself, I honor him.
I’ll be sharing more in a future blog post about my journey to writing a book . . . how the inspiration came to me, what it’s about (other than grief), and what I’m learning through the process. But today felt like the right moment to let you in on what’s been unfolding behind the scenes.
As I close this post today and reflect over these last several years, some of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned from my journey through grief:
Healing isn’t meant to be linear and can't be confined to a timeline
Opportunity is in your perspective
Life is short, precious, and we only get one! Make every minute count!
Sometimes purpose starts in the most unexpected places, like in the ashes of loss
And if you're in that place . . . of letting go, of becoming, of finding what’s next, I want to say:
I see you. It’s tender work. But it’s beautiful work, too.