Grief has a way of changing us forever. On September 3rd, 2023, my family experienced an unimaginable tragedy—a devastating car accident that took the lives of my cousin’s two beautiful children, their little sister, and their grandmother. Our world was shattered in an instant, permanently altered by a loss too heavy to comprehend.
Heartbreakingly, this is not the first time my family has endured such a loss. I have another cousin who lost her son to a tragic car accident, and when new grief arises, it awakens the pain of all the losses we have lived through and continue to live with. Grief is never just about the present—it carries echoes of every loss before it, intertwining past and present in ways that are impossible to prepare for.
Attending their wake was one of the hardest moments of my life. I watched their parents stand with unimaginable strength, sharing heartfelt eulogies that could only have been spoken by the grace of God. A mother mourning her own mother and her all of her children. A father grieving the loss of his firstborn and his beloved bonus kids. And my cousin a father mourning his firstborn—a daughter he called his empress—and a son who radiated pure joy. It was a grief that echoed through every heart in the room.
I see their faces in pictures and ache for the moments that will never be—Florida playdates that will never happen, birthdays that will never be celebrated together. The last birthday they shared with my kids was in 2019, right before the world shut down, stealing years of togetherness from us. My two oldest children were the same ages as my cousin’s children; his eldest and mine were born just four days apart. I see photos of their mother and me, both pregnant at the same time, and my mind struggles to grasp the reality of their absence.
This loss has forever changed me.
There are days when I feel overwhelmed as a mother—days when exhaustion weighs heavy, when patience runs thin. And then, almost immediately, I am met with guilt. Because no matter how hard the day is, my children are here. They are growing. They are laughing. And I know deep in my heart that God doesn’t want me to carry that guilt. He wants me to remember His grace and my humanity, it is part of living with grief. Sadness now lives with gratitude.
This practice, Meaningful Therapy, is my way of honoring their lives. I do this work for them—for the love they represented, the family bonds they cherished, and the generations they were a part of. I do this work for every person carrying grief, for those weighed down by trauma, for those seeking healing in a world that often doesn’t know how to offer it.
In our culture, we are taught to be strong, to lean on family, to push through pain in silence. But healing is not meant to be a solitary journey. Seeking help is not a sign of weakness—it is an act of love. It is a gift, both to ourselves and to those who love us. And I believe with all my heart that mental health care aligns with our faith, our traditions, and our collective strength.
If you are grieving, feeling lost, or simply needing someone to walk alongside you in your healing, I invite you to connect with me. Let’s talk and see how I can support you on this journey. Schedule a call today—I’d be honored to help.
