Grieving in Real Time: Lessons from Loss

“There is no right or wrong way to grieve.

There are healthy and unhealthy ways to grieve.”

I am about ten weeks removed from that Friday afternoon when I got the call that my father was gone. I’m honestly still in a state of disbelief, wanting the narrative to be somehow different—wanting the ending of his story to change.

For about 18 months prior to my father’s death, I was undergoing the tests and preparations necessary for a kidney transplant. I had completed all the initial blood tests, X-rays, and scans to determine if I was a viable donor—and I was! I was determined to get my body in the best shape possible to offer this small token of extended life to the one who gave me life. It seemed like a small gesture compared to the provision, sacrifice, and unconditional love I had received over my thirty-six years.

I was eating right, exercising, and setting goals for my blood sugar and weight—ten pounds gone, another three, then five more. The weight was dropping off, and I was feeling better holistically. My parents were proud of my progress, but my father never seemed anxious about receiving the transplant.

Not more than a week before he passed, he asked me how far along in the process I was and what the next steps would be. This was the first time he initiated a conversation about the transplant. I explained that I needed to come home to complete one more test, and from there, we could set the date based on his status. His interest gave me a sense of excitement because, although in our minds he wasn’t dying, the quality of life would change for him. We spoke about returning to Jamaica, getting in the ocean, driving around the island, and sharing stories about his history. He made sure to mention that his ticket would need to be purchased by me because it was my turn to treat him. We laughed, and I promised him a ticket for his birthday in November.

In the wake of his passing, I’ve been wrestling with how to grieve. Most days, I don’t want to do anything. I wish I could slip into the shadows and disappear. It’s hard. The health goals I achieved are slipping through my fingertips, and my 44 regular suits are becoming snug again. I’m trying to figure out how to stay consistent when my emotions are anything but predictable. I talk about my feelings, but honestly, nothing replaces hearing a response from the one person who can’t answer anymore.

There are no answers here—just processing.

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What Grief Has Taught Me

1. Grief Is Not a Linear Process

Grief doesn’t move in a straight line. Some days it’s heavy and consuming, and other days it’s a quiet ache in the background. The urge to “disappear” or retreat is natural because grief is exhausting. It takes mental, emotional, and physical energy to just get through the day. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve—only the way that you find works for you.

2. Holding on to Health Amidst Loss

Sometimes, the things that once motivated us lose their power when grief takes hold. The weight loss goals I worked so hard to achieve began to slip away because I couldn’t maintain the same drive. It’s important to remember that falling behind doesn’t mean failing. Give yourself permission to be human. Grief changes your priorities and your capacity to push forward. Sometimes, just maintaining is a victory.

3. Conversations That Never Happen

One of the most profound challenges in grieving is processing the conversations that will never happen. My dad’s excitement about the transplant, the Jamaica trip, and the plans we made feel suspended in time. Sometimes, we cling to those unfulfilled dreams because they were a sign of hope and a future that is now different from what we imagined. Letting go of those plans doesn’t mean letting go of the love. It just means finding a way to hold on to his memory without holding on to the expectation of what could have been.

Grieving is messy and unpredictable, and that’s okay. There’s no deadline to heal and no blueprint to follow. The important thing is to keep moving—even if it’s slow and uneven. Talk to someone. Write it down. Honor their memory in whatever way feels right. Above all, give yourself grace to feel what you feel without judgment. Grief is proof that love was real and profound—and that’s worth holding on to.