The Days Are Full

Every April, before I've checked the date, my body already knows. 🌿
Michael died April 26th, 2014. This year was the 12th.

Spring is everyone else's exhale. The birds, the longer days, the flowers people have been waiting for. And every year I sit inside all of that — and feel the same foreboding I felt waiting in a hospital hallway.

I asked the women in my community this week if anyone else had lost their person in spring. 33 answered. Dates ranging from March 2nd to July 21st.

Five months, claimed year after year. The world can't see it that way. Every blooming tree is a reminder that you're still here and they aren't.

Your body knows the date is coming before your brain registers it. The anticipation is its own exhaustion. And then the day arrives, and you lose your grip on time, on what's real, on where you actually are.

You're not losing your mind. It's what happens to us.
I'm hosting a free, one-session pop-up talk — May 28th at 12:00pm EST — for anyone who dreads this season. To talk honestly about what it actually takes to move through these months, when your body is bracing for something that can't happen again.

If this is you, drop APRIL in the comments. I'll DM you to get you registered. We'll need to be Facebook friends first — send a request and I'll accept.

If you know someone whose person died in spring, share this with them.

Wrong Time, Right Person

There's a theory called Wrong Time, Right Person.
It says the universe shows you the right soul at the wrong moment—on purpose. Not to torture you. But to show you what's possible. To give you a glimpse of the love you deserve before you're ready to hold it.

You meet them too early. When you're still healing from someone else. When you're building your career, your life, yourself. When you're in different cities. Different chapters. Different versions of who you'll become.

And it hurts. You feel it. They feel it. But life doesn't line up.
So you let them go. And for years, you wonder: What if we met at a different time?

It Wasn't a Mistake

Meeting them at the wrong time wasn't a mistake. It was preparation.

Because when the timing finally aligns, you know exactly what you're holding. And you don't let go.

Death Doesn't Change That

People think that once the love of your life dies, that's it—that the connection you had with them is gone. But it doesn't work like that.
The tether that pulls you together from before you meet. The yearning to be with "the one." Two souls that, even when apart, know each other from the very beginning.

Love breaks through to find each other, even before you're ready. That terrible yearning to be with them doesn't stop. It continues, even after they die. It can't. They are on the other end of the tether.
Love transcends everything—even death.

Even when you're in deep mourning, you love. Even when this new reality becomes permanent, you love. Even when you know your life with him is over.

Your soul doesn't care. Time doesn't matter. It never did.
You are still connected. You always will be.

Don't ever let go.