Stormeyes Enchanted

Today wasn’t anything special.
Not a holiday. Not a milestone.
Just an ordinary day.

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I did some work, ran my daughter-in-law to her job, and—just for a few extra minutes—I took the long way home. It is a beautiful drive.

(And because… the 80s music on the radio was just too good to turn off. That was a bold confession, right? LOL)

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That’s the thing about grief and healing—the progress hides in the quiet places.

🎧 A Tiny Drive That Turned Into a Win

It might not seem like much, but let me explain:

I haven’t really listened to music since Garet died.

Not like I used to.

The loss changed the way music made me feel. No, correction. It changed the way I felt about music. (I promised transparency, right?)

The car I just replaced didn’t have a radio, and maybe that was a blessing. Because music, as much as I love it, lets me feel—and I wasn’t always ready to do that.

But today?

Today, I turned it up.

I listened to songs from when I was 12—back when life was simpler and full of possibility. Other songs from high school years made me laugh out loud remembering things we had done cruising around to the music.

And for a few minutes, I let myself feel something other than pain.

It was a baby step.

A moment of “okay-ness.”

And I’m calling it a win.

🕊 The Unexpected Waves Still Come

Later, I got in the shower—where all my best (and worst) thoughts seem to come—and I started missing someone.

Sharlet.

She was the mom of one of my high school friends.

And I adored her. We all did.

She was kind, funny, warm but watch out if you made her mad—she could be a bit spicy. She was the kind of mom I always hoped to become someday. she was just such a “boy mom” to me.

And when I lost Garet, one of the people I kept wishing I could talk to was her.

Even though she had already been gone for years.

Isn’t it strange who your heart still reaches for?

I wonder if I still think about her because I believe she’s with Garet now—keeping an eye on him alongside my aunt and grandparents.

Or maybe it’s just that she’s part of my story.

Part of my heart.

Part of who helped shape the kind of mom I became. (But I still say she was tougher than me!)

💭 The Power of Being Remembered

Missing Sharlet reminded me of something important:

Garet will carry on, even beyond me.

His siblings.

His extended family.

His friends.

They’ll tell stories.

They’ll laugh at memories.

They’ll remember the little things that made him him.

And that—that is what keeps me going.

We talk about people because we love them.

We say their names because we refuse to let the world forget.

And I hope, more than anything, that people will keep saying Garet’s name.

Sharing the silly stories.

Holding his memory with love.

Because that’s how he lives on.

🌱 Growing Forward, Not Moving On

I’m not “over it.”

I never will be.

But I am growing forward.

Some days, it’s just a drive with good music.

On other days, it’s crying in the shower.

Sometimes, it’s talking to someone who isn’t here anymore—because their memory still matters.

And sometimes it’s writing this.

So, if you’re grieving, healing, or just trying to figure out how to breathe after losing someone you love—you’re not alone.

Take the drive.

Play the song.

Say their name.

Let yourself grow forward at your own pace.

It all counts. 💜

💬 Do You Still Talk About the Ones You’ve Lost?

Drop their name in the comments.

Share a story.

Let them be remembered.

Because love like that never fades—it just changes form. 🕊

Light and Love ~Mandy

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