From the outside, our life looks normal.
But a child has lost his dad. A father has died.
And that changes everything.
Grief does not only show itself in big moments,
but in the small things of everyday life.
In routines.
In the place that has remained empty – and always will.
Grief is often quiet.
It shows itself in a cooked meal.
In order.
In a “Hurry up, or you’ll be late.”
In the walk to school, to sports.
In everything that Dad was.
My son misses his father. Every day.
A child grieves differently than adults.
I watch my son.
And it still feels unreal.
Grief takes time.
This year was a year of functioning.
As a widow.
As a single mother.
As an entrepreneur.
A year without rest.
Head down. Just pushing through.
A year of exhaustion.
A year of despair.
And at the same time, a year of discovering new strength.
Surviving and moving forward often belong together.
A year of MaPi – mom and dad in one.
There was often no space for grief,
because first a child had to be held,
a child who withdraws
and does not understand the world anymore.
It was a year of accompanying his grief.
A year of gratitude for the people
who carried and supported us.
And a year of realizing
what truly matters.
Grief changes the way we see life.
From the outside,
it seems as if we are living a normal life.
But we are grieving.
Quietly.
Deeply.
Truly.
Because our life is no longer the same. 🤍