Grief is one of life’s most profound teachers. When my son, Ollie, died from congenital heart defects (CHD), the pain was so consuming I didn’t know if I could keep going. Grief touched every part of me—it was heavy, disorienting, and at times paralyzing. But slowly, with each passing day, I discovered something unexpected: resilience.

I learned that you can keep going long after you think you can’t. At first, survival looked like putting one foot in front of the other, taking life one moment at a time. Over time, though, I began to carry my grief differently. The weight of loss no longer symbolized emptiness—it became a reflection of the immense love I have for Ollie, a love I will carry for the rest of my life.

That love has been transformative. It gave me strength I didn’t know I had and clarity about what really matters. My grief became a compass, teaching me to slow down, live with intention, and nurture the relationships that bring meaning and joy.

I’ve learned to ask for help, to lean on others, and to surround myself with people who radiate positivity and love. And in return, I’ve tried to make sure the people I cherish know just how deeply they are loved.

In many ways, grief has become a gift I carry with care. It reminds me of life’s fragility and pushes me to live with gratitude, presence, and openness. I’ve discovered that peace doesn’t mean the absence of pain—it means finding a way to let love grow alongside it.

Ollie’s life was a lesson in love, and his legacy is woven into everything I do. His heart, though imperfect, continues to shape mine—making it fuller, stronger, and bursting with love.

Today, I don’t see myself as someone trying to escape the darkness of grief. Instead, I see myself as someone who carries grief like a precious reminder of love—and uses it as fuel to keep moving forward, to keep loving, to keep living fully.

Love always.

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