GRIEF IS A MONSTER. đź’”
GRIEF IS A MONSTER. đź’”
Grief is like that monster under your bed when you were a child.
You know it's there. You can feel its presence, even when you can't see it. So you pull the covers a little tighter, close your eyes, and hope that if you ignore it long enough, maybe it will just go away.
But grief doesn't work that way.
Sometimes that monster is quiet. It retreats into the shadows, allowing you to breathe, laugh, dance, and even convince yourself that you've finally learned to live with it.
And then, without warning, it reaches out and grabs you.
In the middle of your favorite song. At the grocery store. During a family celebration. While driving down a familiar road. Or in the silence of a room where someone's laughter used to live.
And just like that, the monster reminds you that it's still there.
Grief doesn't wear a watch. It doesn't follow a calendar. It doesn't care whether it's been five days, five years, or fifty.
And it certainly doesn't care how strong everyone thinks you are.
Grief is love that has lost its physical place to land. And sometimes, that love hurts like hell.
I want to tell you about my dear friend, Tanya Cummings.
Some of you know Tanya from behind the DJ decks. Some of you know her as that familiar voice on the radio, helping you navigate the roads with your daily traffic report.
But there's another side of Tanya's story that deserves to be heard.
Tanya is a mother who lost her son.
And she is a woman who knows grief in ways that extend far beyond that one devastating loss.
She knows what it feels like when life changes in an instant. When the world keeps spinning, the sun keeps rising, people keep going about their lives, and somehow you're expected to figure out how to keep living in a world that will never look quite the same.
She knows the monster. She has lived with it. She knows its voice.
And rather than allowing that pain to be the only chapter of her story, Tanya has chosen to help others find their way through their own grief.
Through her grief counseling and her foundation, #itsok2live Tanya is sharing a message that I believe so many grieving hearts desperately need to hear.
Read that again.
It's okay to live.
It's okay to laugh again.
It's okay to dance again.
It's okay to celebrate a birthday, enjoy a holiday, take a vacation, fall in love, and experience happiness.
It's okay to have a good day without feeling guilty about it.
It's okay to smile at a memory instead of crying.
And it's okay if tomorrow you cry anyway.
Finding joy again is not a betrayal of the people we've lost.
Living doesn't mean forgetting.
Healing doesn't mean the love has diminished.
And moving forward doesn't mean leaving someone behind.
Sometimes grief convinces us that if we stop hurting, even for a moment, we're somehow letting go of the person we loved.
But love doesn't work that way.
Love remains. In the memories. In the stories. In the music. In the little pieces of ourselves that will forever belong to those who are no longer physically here.
And that's what makes Tanya's work so meaningful to me.
She's not standing on the outside of grief looking in, telling people what they should feel.
She's someone who understands the darkness, who knows that there are days when simply getting out of bed is an accomplishment.
And she understands that sometimes people don't need another person telling them to be strong.
Sometimes they need permission to fall apart.
Sometimes they need someone to listen without judgment.
And sometimes they need someone to remind them that they are still allowed to live.
Think about that for a moment.
Every day, Tanya's voice helps people navigate the roads, warning them about obstacles, delays, and unexpected turns.
And through her counseling and foundation, she's helping people navigate a different kind of road. One filled with emotional detours, unexpected breakdowns, and destinations they never imagined they'd have to travel toward.
And on that road, having someone who understands the terrain can make all the difference.
Tanya, I see you. And I am incredibly proud of you.
Your grief is not your gift. Your son was your gift.
And the love you carry for him, along with the compassion you extend to others, is part of the beautiful legacy you continue to build.
To anyone reading this who is struggling with loss, whether it's recent or something you've carried quietly for decades, I want you to know something.
You don't have to have it all together.
You don't have to pretend you're okay.
You don't have to rush your healing to make other people comfortable.
And you don't have to fight that monster alone.
If you need someone to walk beside you through the difficult, messy, unpredictable journey of grief, I encourage you to connect with Tanya Cummings and learn more about her grief counseling and #itsok2live foundation.
Because sometimes the first step toward living again is having someone remind you that you're allowed to.
The monster may still be under the bed. But it doesn't get to decide whether you ever come out from underneath the covers again.
And when you're ready, there are people like Tanya who will be there to help you find your way.
❤️ #itsok2live
Not because we've forgotten.
Not because it doesn't hurt.
But because love doesn't end when life does.
And we are still here. We are still worthy of joy. We are still allowed to live.
Celeste Locke
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