Sorrow & Beauty
Live Journal – August 21, 2025
I miss her. I went through all of my pictures today, and deleted a bunch. And of course I saw so many pictures of her. Her beautiful red fur. The crooked teeth she showed when you told her to sit. When I put her down in May, everything got turned upside down.
It wasn’t just a loss, it was a fucking rupture. All of my daily rhythms gone in an instant, and sent it me reeling. I was completely beside myself. I walked her every day and every evening. Every decision I made, I filtered through taking care of her. And then she was gone. I walked her empty collar around the block the next day, and I could barely keep myself together. I had no fucking idea what to do. I stayed at work late, and I avoided going home. Every time I touched my door handle, I thought about her on the couch, but when I veered the corner, it was empty. It got to a point where I grabbed the handle and yelled, “she’s fucking dead, and she’s not there.” Her memory, so embedded in my nervous system. It wrecked me, and I am just starting to feel better.
And today, I felt joy and sorrow in the same breath. Her beauty made me smile, and her goofiness made me miss her so terribly. I am listening to Francis Weller’s The Wild Edge of Sorrow, and he reminds us that love and grief are sisters, and that their kinship reminds us that there is no love that does not contain loss. It took me weeks to sit with my grieving heart. And when I finally did, I spoke her:
“I am sorry I tried to forget you. I am just so lost without you, and I didn’t know what to do. I miss you every day.”
The presence of loved ones etches itself in our nervous systems; the very fibre of our being. You hear that grief isn’t linear, but it’s more than that. It’s forever. It’s proof how deeply we loved, and how deeply we still do.
💡Ritual Cue: Light a candle for someone you’ve lost this weekend. Remember them.