Grieving, yet grateful

A few days ago, while I was looking for an important document among my old belongings, I least expected pieces of my past to surface. Every piece of paper I touched echoed the memories I wasn’t prepared to meet. Some belonged to my late husband, some to my father. It wasn’t just about things. It was about moments, voices, and a LIFE THAT ONCE WAS.

My father used to say that feeling upset is only human, but how long we dwell in it, shapes who we become. So, on the days I feel low, I make a conscious effort to step away from those heavy thoughts and slowly fill my heart with positivity.

Incidentally, today marks the 10th anniversary of my husband’s passing. As the day unfolded, I found myself wondering how I have journeyed through an entire decade.

Ten years of raising my children, caring for my ailing parents, and then enduring the loss of my father, the very person who had been my greatest support system, learning to navigate life after him, of relocating our base from one city to another, of sending both my daughters abroad to pursue their master’s degrees, and of carrying the weight of every major decision alone.

Looking back, it feels overwhelming, yet deeply humbling—because I was never truly alone. I am grateful for family who stood firmly beside me, for friends who understood my quiet moments and still reached out (a true blessing—to have friends who can read your silence), and for every storm and every sunshine that taught me something about strength.

I remember the days I wanted to give up, but choose to keep going, because my daughters deserved a mother who kept showing up, no matter how hard it got. I am grateful for their lives. My pride as a mother doesn’t come from foreign degrees or future success, but from the fact that they have become compassionate, kind human beings.

Grief doesn’t fade with time; it becomes a part of the journey. Some days it is gentle, and on others, it feels heavy. Life is uncertain and brief, staying stuck in pain only holds us back. When we begin to appreciate the lessons learned, the grace discovered, the people who we earned, and who we’ve become, healing finds its way in.

Grief is the shadow,

gratitude the light,

both follow me,

both are mine to keep.

I’m grateful for the lost and the living

Gratefully yours

Lydia Israel