I found this journal entry today. It’s from 2016, months after Olivia died. I’m sharing it with you today as a way to honor my grief.

As I read this today, I realize that somehow, even then I knew that even though I was walking through the darkest of darks, I would eventually find myself again. Olivia was not lost. And neither was I.

I’m so thankful to Olivia and to God for this path. It’s been dark, cold, and lonely at times, but it’s leading me home.

I feel this “invitation home” being extended to all of us.

The sun started moving again.
The trees are growing again, they're changing again.
Time is passing again.
The world is slowly beginning to turn again.

I feel them pulling me along with them;
Sometimes I forget what happened and I go along.

But at night I still dream about her.
In my dreams I'm still looking for her—
I find her and I scoop her up,
And she's okay
In my dreams
At night.

My daytime-self and nighttime-self are drifting further and further apart.

Maybe soon I'll start dreaming of looking for me,
Finding myself,
Scooping myself up.
Maybe then I'll be okay,
In my dreams.

Maybe my daytime is the dream. It feels that way.
The dreams at night feel more real.
The dreams at day are foggy and blurry. They don't feel real at all.

Finding myself through grief

an invitation home