Y'all, I wasn't planning to write this today. I was scrolling through videos this morning, minding my business, when I stumbled across a clip of Tyler Perry on Oprah talking to a woman who had just lost her mother. Something about the way she said "My Mom recently died" made me stop mid-scroll. Maybe it was the crack in her voice, or maybe it was because I recognized that specific kind of pain that sits in your chest like a stone you can't swallow.

Tyler's response hit me like a record scratch moment. He said, "Grief is a living thing that visits at random," and honey, if that ain't the truth! "You can't schedule it, can't work it away, can't drink it away, can't even busy yourself into forgetting it." It just waits. Patiently. Like that friend who knows you need to cry but won't push you until you're ready.

The Unexpected Guest That Never Leaves

Two years. That's how long my mama lived with me before she took her last breath in our home. Two years of morning coffee conversations, patio lemonade sessions, and her somehow knowing exactly when I needed a hug before I even knew it myself. She had this way of reading my mood before I walked through the door, like mothers do. Like she could see straight through to my soul and knew exactly what I needed to hear and sometimes how I needed to hear it.

My baby was only two when Mama passed, just weeks before both their birthdays, which fell in the same month. The timing felt cruel, like some twisted joke. How do you celebrate life when death is still sitting at your kitchen table, uninvited but impossible to ignore?

I used to crawl into bed next to Mama on the hard nights. Sometimes it was the only way I could fall asleep, feeling safe in her presence. Now I have a three-year-old daughter who sometimes crawls into my bed the same way, seeking that same safety, that same comfort. The circle of love continues, even when grief tries to convince you it's broken.

The Living, Breathing Truth About Loss

Tyler said something else that stopped me cold: "To everything in your life, there's an opposite." Pain has an opposite. Difficulty has an opposite. This hell you're walking through? It has an opposite too. He talked about refusing to leave this planet until he got to see what that opposite looked like, and now he's living in it.

That hit me differently because I'm still looking for my opposite. Still pushing through the thick of it some days, wondering if I'll ever feel whole again. Some mornings I wake up and for just a split second, I forget. I reach for my phone to call Mama and tell her about some random thing my daughter did, an update on her favorite TV Show, or ask her opinion about anything, because she was my sounding board. Then reality crashes back in, and I remember she's not a phone call away anymore.

But here's what I'm learning in this messy, beautiful process of grief: it's not about getting over it. It's about learning to dance with it. Some days the dance is clumsy and I step on grief's toes. Other days, we move together like old partners who know each other's rhythm.

Finding Beauty in the Broken Places

I'm a former teacher who got so burned out and traumatized by the system that I had to walk away. I'm a creative with too many talents and not enough focus. I'm a single mama trying to figure out how to chase dreams while keeping the lights on. I feel invisible sometimes, like I'm on an island waving at ships that never see me.

But you know what? In all this messiness, in all this grief and uncertainty, I'm discovering something Tyler was talking about.

Maybe the opposite of pain isn't the absence of it. Maybe it's finding meaning in it. Purpose through it. Connection because of it.

When I create anything from a place of love, I think about my Mama and how she taught me that love shows up in the simple acts. When I spend time with my toddler, I remember how Mama could make magic out of nothing, turning ordinary Tuesday afternoons into adventures. Her wisdom flows through every creative thing I touch, every word I write, every idea I birth into the world.

She's in my love for holistic living and plant-based meals, in my desire to create beautiful spaces on a budget, in my need to smell like flowers instead of chemicals. Mama didn't just live with me for those last two years, she planted seeds in every corner of who I am, and now those seeds are blooming in ways I never expected. Her love is the invisible thread that connects all my scattered talents, reminding me that maybe being multi-passionate isn't about being unfocused, maybe it's about being fully alive.

The Healing Happens in Community

This blog has become my therapy, my way of processing all the big feelings that don't fit in normal conversation. Every time I hit publish, I'm hoping that somewhere out there, someone else feels seen. Someone else who's navigating grief or creativity or single motherhood or the strange space between dreams and bills feels a little less alone on their island.

Because here's what I know for sure: grief might be a lifelong companion, but it doesn't have to be a lonely one. The healing happens in community, in shared stories, in the courage to say "me too" when someone else shares their truth.

So if you're reading this and you're in the thick of your own grief season, I see you. If you're trying to figure out how to honor your dreams while keeping your life together, I see you. If you feel invisible sometimes, like you're speaking a language nobody else understands, I see you.

We're all just trying to find the opposite side of our pain, and maybe, just maybe, we can help each other get there.

Resources for the Journey

If you're looking for deeper support on your grief journey, I highly recommend checking out "It's Grief: The Dance of Self-Discovery Through Trauma and Loss" by Edy Nathan. This book explores the 11 phases of grief and offers tools for finding inner peace and personal growth through loss. It's been a gentle companion on my own healing journey.

Also, don't forget to check out my podcasts where we dive deeper into these conversations about healing, creativity, motherhood, and finding your way through life's unexpected plot twists.

Keep pushing toward your opposite, beautiful souls. It's waiting for you.

Check out the clips that I mentioned here! ⬇️

And Clip 2

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