It’s been two weeks now. Two weeks that feel like both an eternity and a fleeting moment. The world around me seems unchanged—cars still rush by, people laugh, the sun rises and sets—but inside, it feels like time has stopped. Grief is strange like that. It consumes you, pressing into every quiet moment, and yet life keeps moving forward, indifferent to the loss.

Papa is gone. I say it to myself often, trying to make the words feel real. Some moments, they do, and the weight of it hits like a wave, knocking the air from my lungs. Other times, it feels distant, like maybe this is just a terrible dream I’ll wake up from.

In these two weeks, I’ve learned a harsh but valuable lesson about life: nothing lasts forever, and the people we love are on borrowed time. It’s a truth I’ve always known in theory, but it’s different when you’re forced to live it. I see now how much I took for granted—the conversations I thought could wait, the hugs I didn’t hold long enough, the words I left unsaid because I assumed there’d be more time.

But here’s another thing I’ve come to realize: grief, as painful as it is, is a testament to love. If I didn’t love Papa so deeply, losing him wouldn’t hurt this much. And while the pain is unbearable at times, it also reminds me of all the moments we shared; road trips, bottle of wine, karaoke.

So I’m trying to honor him by holding on to those memories and by living the way he would have wanted—fully, with humility and kindness. It’s not easy, and I know it never will be. But I also know he wouldn’t want me to be swallowed by sadness.

Two weeks in, I’m still learning to navigate this new reality. Some days, I feel like I’m drowning. Other days, I find small pockets of peace—usually in the memories that make me smile through the tears.

Grief is a heavy teacher, but its lessons are clear: love fiercely, hold your people close, and don’t wait to say or do the things that matter. If I can take that lesson and carry it forward, maybe I’ll find a way to keep Papa’s spirit alive in me.

I miss you, Papa. Every single moment.