I know you are afraid; you are afraid to get hurt again. But I also know that you are not meant to grieve forever.

I have lived in the shadow of loss—the kind of loss that can paralyze you forever.
I have grieved like a professional mourner—in every waking moment, draining every ounce of my life force.
I died—without leaving my body.
But I came back, and now it’s your turn.
I have learned to remember my past—without living in it.
I am strong, electric, and alive, because I chose to dance, to laugh, to love, and to
live again.
I have learned that you can’t re-create the life you once had—you have to
reinvent a life for yourself.
And that reinvention is a gift, not a curse.
I believe your future self is a work of art and that science can help you create it. If you’re lost . . . if you’re gone . . . if you can barely absorb the words on this
page . . . I want you to hold this truth in your heart: when it’s your time to go, you won’t wish you had spent more time grieving; you’ll wish you had spent more time living.
That’s why I’m here. And why you are, too. Let’s live like our lives depend on it.

You can do the impossible, because you have been through the unthinkable.

Just as it is impossible to explain childbirth to a woman who has never given birth, it is impossible to explain child loss to a person who has never lost a child.

Grief, we know where we've been. We know where we want to be.

Grieving is an expression of gratitude, and that expression doesn't have to be rushed.