Latest / Back Porch Confessions / 🎙️ THE LIMBO STATE: Learning to Live Again After Loss ❤️

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🎙️ THE LIMBO STATE: Learning to Live Again After Loss ❤️ · Back Porch Confessions

• Gravesb41: Sometimes my soul is just tired, tired of being strong, tired of carrying the heaviness, tired of fighting battles nobody else can see. And maybe you know that kind of tired too. The kind of tired that doesn't come from sleep, the kind of tired that settles deep in your heart, your mind and your spirit, the kind that comes from surviving, enduring, holding it all together and still showing up when your life had tried to take everything out of you. But here's the truth. Being tired does not mean you are weak, it does not mean you are broken, and it does not mean your story is over. At Renewed Mind we talk about the hard things, the hidden heaviness, the silent battles, the trauma, the grief, the healing, and the fight to keep going when your soul feels weary. This is the place where strong people can finally tell the truth, where healing gets honest, where pain is spoken out loud. And where the ones who have spent their whole lives pouring into others can find a space to breathe, be seen, and remember they are worth the battle too because sometimes the healer needs healing. Sometimes the strong ones need somewhere soft to land, and sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is admit you're tired and keep choosing to heal anyway. This is renewed mind, real talk, real pain, real healing. One honest conversation at a time. Back Porch Confessions: If dry mouth has you constantly reaching for water, listen up because I found something you need to know about, and that is the Rayo Oral Pouch Solutions. They're discreet, easy to use, and designed to help keep your mouth feeling comfortably hydrated without constantly sipping water or grabbing for that piece of candy that hoping it'll help. Just tuck a little pouch in the pocket of your jaw and go about your day. There's no mess, no fuss, it's discreet. Just a simple option for dry mouth relief when you need it. So if dry mouth is driving you crazy, check out the OPS Rio Pouches at Oral Pouch Solutions dot com. Your mouth might just be thanking you for it. Moisture where you need it. OPS Rio, Dry Mouth Pouches, wherever life takes you. Gravesb41: Welcome to Back Porch Confessions, where the sweet tea is strong, the stories are stronger, and no topic is too taboo for the porch. Grab a seat, kick off your shoes, and let's get into the kind of conversation your mama warned you about, but you listen anyway. Back Porch Confessions: Hey everybody, welcome to Back Porch. Today I'm going to be talking about the limbo state. It's the empty space after loss, the guilt of moving forward and learning to smile again. So welcome back to the porch. And y'all, just come sit for a little while. Today's conversation is really going to be maybe just a little bit softer than normal, a little bit quieter. Because we're talking about something that touches almost every one of us eventually, right? We're talking about grief. but not necessarily the beginning of grief, not the funeral, not the shock, not the casserole showing up at the house. not that we don't appreciate those, not the flowers, not the plants, not the phone calls. Not the first few days when everybody you know is checking on you. I want to talk about what happens after that, when everybody else goes back to their lives and you realize you don't know how to go back to yours. That's a strange place where The loss isn't brand new anymore, but your life still doesn't feel normal. you wake up, you function, you get up and do the thing, you answer messages, you go to work, you make dinner, occasionally you have a little giggle, you survive each day. But somewhere inside of you, you feel like you're standing in the middle of nowhere. Not where you were, at least. And not yet where you're going. Just the in between, I call it. The limbo state. That place after losing somebody you love. Where keeps moving, but part of you is still standing beside the moment they left. And sometimes, you know, the hardest the hardest part about grief isn't only missing them. Sometimes the hardest part is realizing I'm still here. And then you're trying to figure out what you're supposed to do with that. Because how do you live again? Without feeling like you're leaving them behind. How do you laugh without guilt? How do you celebrate something good? How do you take a vacation? How do you fall in love again? How do you enjoy another birthday? How do you have an ordinary Tuesday? When somebody you love will never have another Tuesday. That is what we're talking about today. And if you've lost somebody, whether it happened weeks ago, months ago, years ago, or decades ago, I want you to pull up your chair a little closer. Because there are some things I think grieving people desperately need permission to hear. And the first one is you are allowed to keep living. I know that sounds foreign. So when the world keeps moving and you don't, you get stuck in that limbo. One of the strangest things about death is how quickly the rest of the world just continues. The traffic still moves, people complain. They complain about nonsense mostly. Stores are still gonna open. The mail still comes. Bills are still gonna arrive. People around you are still laughing. The sun is still rising and setting. And somewhere inside of you, though, you're thinking, do y'all not understand what just happened? How can everybody be functioning? How is the world still spinning? Because your world changed in that instant. And yet the outside world, they've barely noticed. That can feel incredible. Incredibly isolating, right? So during those first few days after a loss, people surround you. I'm sorry about the dog feet, guys. What do you need? I'm praying for you. These are things you hear. I'm here. Call me anytime. Then what happens? Right? Then slowly the calls become less frequent. People stop checking. Everyone assumes you're doing better and maybe physically you are functioning better, but grief often goes beyond that. Grief often gets louder when the noise around it becomes quieter. I don't know if that makes sense. But that's when the limbo state can begin. It's when the grief gets louder, when the noise around it becomes quieter. So when all the things, the people, the prayers, the text messages stop by and the casseroles and all the things, when that all stops, your grief shows up with a megahorn. No Maggie. No ma'am. I'm sorry you all. I don't know why they can't leave me alone when I'm doing these things. Back to it. So what does the limbo state feel like? Well, it can feel like emptiness, numbness, you can be restless, definitely loneliness. Oftentimes there's confusion and people get bewildered by why do I feel so confused? One of the heavier ones is disconnection. You might say I don't even know what I feel. I'm not crying all the time anymore, but I'm not happy. I don't feel like myself. I feel guilty when I laugh. I feel like something is missing everywhere I go. I keep expecting them to walk through the door. I don't know how to live without them. That's important because grief isn't only losing a person. Sometimes grief includes losing part of your identity. Maybe you were their spouse, their caregiver, their child, their best friend, a sibling, their parent. Maybe your daily routines revolved around them. A lot of times an ailing parent that you've taken care of for however long. Maybe you spoke to them every day. Maybe every holiday included them. Maybe your future plans had their name written all through them. So when they die, you're not only grieving who they were, right? You're grieving the life you expected to continue having. With them. And that's heavy. Grief is just simply love with nowhere physical to go. There's something about grief that I think people misunderstand. Grief isn't weakness. Grief isn't evidence of attachment. We hurt because we loved, right? Because we ache, because somebody mattered. We miss them because their existence became woven into ours. And death changes the physical relationship, like stops, and that matters. Because sometimes grieving people believe they have only two choices keep mourning constantly, or somehow let the person go completely. Here's the thing: maybe, maybe neither is necessary. Maybe there's a third option. Maybe we can just learn to carry them differently. That's why I'm here today. A relationship can change without ending, right? You could not call them. You cannot hug them. You could not hear their voice in the room. That physical relationship has changed, right? And that reality can be devastating. And that doesn't even necessarily mean that somebody has completely unalived. You can also warn someone who no longer is going to be in your world, but is still living and walking the earth. Love doesn't suddenly become meaningless because somebody died or left. You can still talk to them, except for the ones that left. You can tell their stories. You can even cook their recipes. Heck, play their music that they loved. You can continue traditions that they loved. You can pass down their wisdom. You can laugh about the ridiculous things that they did. You can speak their name. And you could carry pieces of them into rooms they never got to enter. That's not refusing to accept death or the end of a relationship. That's allowing love to evolve. Let me ask you something. When you think about the person you lost, what do you miss most? Not necessarily the big things. Sometimes grief hides in the tiny places. The way they answered the phone. Their coffee cup, the one they refused to let you wash because somehow it held some kind of special mojo in it if you never truly washed it. Their shoes beside the door the way they laughed, the smell of their perfume or cologne, the TV show they always watched sometimes the terrible jokes. The way they called your name. The seat they always sat in. The things you once thought were ordinary become priceless after they're gone. And sometimes that's exactly why the house feels so empty. Because grief often lives in ordinary places. We just didn't see it. Then along with all of that comes this level of Grief or guilt actually. Not grief. I'm gonna go with guilt. Guilt for feeling better. I know you're sitting there in your chair right now going, she's calling me out. How does she know? Let's talk about something people don't always admit. Sometimes feeling better feels terrible. You wake up one morning and they aren't the first thing you think about. And then you realize it. And guilt hits. You laugh at something, and for five seconds you feel completely happy. Then guilt says, How can you laugh? You're enjoying dinner. And guilt just rolls in like a steam train locomotive. They should be here. They should be here. And then you get mad. You take a trip. Guilt says they'll never get to do this. And then you ruin your whole trip. What if you happen to fall in love again? Guilt says, Are you replacing them? You're not. You're not, you're learning to live life a different way. You have a beautiful day ahead of you. You actually go out and have that beautiful day. And somewhere in the midst of all of that, guilt says to you, How dare you be happy when they're gone? How many of these things do you recognize? How many of these things have you gone through? Because this is something grief can do. It can convince us that suffering is proof of love. I'm going to say that again. It can convince us that suffering is proof of love. As if the more miserable we remain, the more loyal we are. But want you to consider something. What if your love isn't measured by how long you stay broken? What if joy What if Joy doesn't betray them? What if just maybe laughter doesn't erase them? What if healing does not mean forgetting? If they loved you, would they want your life to end too? And I know for those of you who have heard me preach this at you, you've heard me say that before. And it can be the hard one to hear. It's hard for you to hear that. It's hard for you to wrap your brain around it. But imagine the person you lost sitting beside you. Imagine they could see your life. Would they want you to stop laughing forever? Would they want every birthday to become a punishment? No. Would they want every holiday to become a memorial service for them? Absolutely not. Would they want you to feel guilty for traveling? No. They want you to live your life. Would they want you to feel it for loving, for enjoying your children, for dancing, for finding peace, for having another good chapter? Most people we deeply love would say, please live. They're not sitting there next to you saying, spend the rest of your life proving how sad you are that I'm gone. That doesn't require permanent suffering. Mm mm. Living for them doesn't mean becoming them, right? Living for them doesn't mean becoming them. Sometimes people say, I'm going to live for them. Is there something wrong with that? I love the heart behind that. I'm going to live for them. That's beautiful. But I want to be careful with it. You don't have to accomplish everything they didn't. You don't have to become responsible for fulfilling every dream that they had. That can become another kind of pressure. Be careful with that. Instead, maybe maybe living for them means something simpler like love harder because they taught you time matters. Does that make sense? Take the picture. Say the thing. Make the phone call. Forgive faster. Travel when you can. Eat dessert for breakfast. Tell somebody you love them. Live with the awareness that tomorrow is precious. That can be their legacy, not pressure. Perspective. You know, so we end up in this point of The first time we laugh after losing somebody that is significant to us, that is holding our hearts in a special place, right? There's something powerful about the first genuine laugh after deep loss. Sometimes it shocks you. Right? You laugh, then suddenly you feel guilty. Or you cry immediately afterward. That doesn't mean that something is wrong. Human emotions are not single file lines. You can miss someone desperately and still experience joy. You can grieve and laugh. You can mourn and fall in love. You can ache and feel grateful, right? You can have a beautiful day and wish they were there. Two things can exist at once. Well, I don't know. That that is one of the biggest lessons grief teaches, I feel, is that two things can exist at once. When grief becomes part of your routine Eventually guess what? Eventually grief stops being just a visitor. It becomes part of your landscape. You may not cry every day, but dates matter birthdays, anniversaries, death dates, songs, smells, places, travel, certain foods, certain seasons, holidays. Sometimes grief appears without warning. Yep. You can be in the grocery store shopping and suddenly you see their favorite cereal or their savorite box favorite box of cookies. You hear a song over the mic? You smell somebody wearing their perfume or cologne. You see someone from behind who moves like them. And for one second, your body reacts before your brain catches up. Grief can surprise you, even years later. That doesn't mean you went backward. It just simply means you loved somebody. And knowing that is knowing that that is okay. It's okay. Stop putting a deadline on grief. What what is the purpose of putting that deadline on grief? I I hear this often. How long is grief supposed to last? How long am I supposed to hurt? There is no universal timetable. Grief also shouldn't become a life sentence where you believe you're forbidden from healing. Those two things are very different. Nobody gets to tell you you should be over it by now. Grief also doesn't get to tell you you must remain miserable forever to prove that they mattered. No. Grief doesn't get to tell you that. Healing happens in layers, sometimes slowly, sometimes unexpectedly, and sometimes beautifully. What does healing actually look like? What does it look like for you? Healing may look like going an afternoon without crying, then feeling guilty about it. Healing may look like packing away some of their things finally, going through their clothes, going through the chores, selling some of their items. And keeping one shirt. keeping several of dad's favorite swannels to have a quilt made out of it. Or dad's favorite team shirts. Or there's so many different things that you can do for memories. Healing may look like simply moving furniture around. Change the scenery around you. Find a different happy in your space. Healing may look like leaving everything exactly where it is for a while. Or moving it around. Healing might also look like going back to work, picking up that old hobby again. Continuing to go for your walks like you used to once or twice a day, or going hiking, whatever you used to do before grief set in. Take that trip. Healing is sleeping through the night, listening to their favorite song without breaking down, laughing at a memory instead of crying, talking about how they died without breaking apart, and eventually talking more about how you lived for them or how you're living for them. Eventually you even talk about how they lived. That's a huge shift. At first, you know, death becomes the headline in your life. It is it is the glowing neon sign in your life. But eventually their life becomes the story again. Don't let the way they died erase the way they lived. I'm gonna say it again. Don't let the way they died erase the way that they lived. This is especially important when death was traumatic. Several of you know of the traumatic deaths. Sometimes the final days become so overwhelming that that when you're in that overwhelmed state They begin to replace years of memories. Hospital rooms, accidents, illness, phone calls, last breaths, funerals, those images can dominate everything. But the person you loved was more than the death. They were more than their deaths. They were. They were birthdays, they were vacations, they were arguments, recipes, inside jokes, music, Christmas mornings, Christmas breakfast, candlelight services in church, car rides, late night conversations with mom or your bestie. They were mistakes, they were triumph. Triumphs, sorry. Triumphs. They weren't ordinary Tuesday afternoons, right? Their story did not begin at their funeral, but oftentimes that's where we stay. It's where we get stuck. That's where the limbo remains. Try to remember their whole life. Not only their ending. Don't get stuck in that limbo. When you picture your loved one, do you picture their life or do you picture mostly their death? 'Cause if the ending has become louder than everything that came before, maybe part of healing is intentionally reclaiming their story. Right? Part of healing is intentionally reclaiming their story. Writing memories. Look at photos from happier years. Ask relatives for stories. Record the funny things. Tell your children about them. Tell your grandchildren. Make sure future generations know this person lived. Not simply just that they died, but they lived. So where are you at when you're in that state of who am I now without this person? Who am I now? This is one of the hardest parts of grief for anybody. Death really rearranges roles. And we don't even think about that kind of thing until it's happening. Right? A widow may suddenly wonder, who am I now that I'm no longer someone's wife? A husband. Who am I without my spouse? Who am I? A mother may wonder who am I when I've lost my children or my child? An adult child, who am I without a parent to call? I miss my mom. I miss my dad. I miss our conversations. That's what adults will do for their parents. That's how you'll feel. What if a sibling passes? Who am I when that person who knew my whole childhood is gone? They've known me from day one. identity can feel so unstable after loss. That's part of the limbo. Because the old version of your life ended. Like it ended. And that can feel really empty. But empty doesn't necessarily mean or need to mean hopeless. Sometimes empty is just simply unfinished. Right. You're not starting over. And I think this part matters. After deep loss, people may say, I have to start over. Mm but here's the thing, maybe maybe you're not starting over. Maybe you're starting from experience. You bring everything they taught you. Every memory, lesson, piece of love, every mistake, every conversation, every way that they shaped you. You're not beginning at zero. They helped build the person walking into the next chapter. Honor them for that. Don't live in the limbo of it. Don't make it become the identity. You have to make room for new joy. Sometimes people fear if I create new memories, the old ones will disappear. No, it doesn't work that way, I promise. They won't. The heart isn't a hard drive with limited storage. New joy doesn't overwrite old love. New joy doesn't overwrite old love. You can visit a new place and remember where you went together. You can celebrate Christmas differently and still honor the old traditions. You can meet new people and still miss someone who died. or went away. You could create another chapter without ripping the earlier chapters out of the book. You don't have to start over. It's just a new beginning with experience. You know the old saying of I'm thirty with a few years of experience. So if you lost a spouse or a partner. This subject to me, I feel kinda deserves its own conversation. Because romantic grief carries a unique kind of guilt. Dating again, feeling attraction to someone else, companionship, having someone else touch you, maybe even possibly remarriage. Even considering these things can feel like betrayal. And in and when you're in those situations, sometimes people think, if I loved somebody else, was my first love not real? Love is not cancelled because death interrupted it. Love is not canceled because death interrupted it. A new relationship does not erase an old one. You've been giving new relationships your entire life. Didn't erase all the other ones, did it? So why would it erase this? Your heart can honor what was. Your heart can honor what was while allowing what could still be. Does that make sense? Nobody replaces somebody who died. People occupy different places in our lives. All the time. So when you get stuck in that lipo and you don't want to move forward. Sometimes people will just simply say, I I don't want to move on. I don't want to move on. I'm just gonna stay here on this sofa and I'm just I'm just gonna pine my wife my life away. I I just don't want to live anymore. And I get that, I understand why. Truly. Moving on can sound like abandonment, right? So maybe maybe we just learn to change the language. So you don't move on. Nix that. We're not moving on. You can move forward with them. Carry their story. Carry their love. Carry what they taught you. But stop carrying the belief that you must suffer every day in their honor. That isn't legacy. It's not what they deserve. That definitely isn't the legacy love they deserve. Right? One of these days I'm on quit saying right. And I ain't promising. So the difference between like remembering and reopening, there's a difference. Kind of sounds like weird for me to put those together. But hang on, hold on with me. Remembering is I missed them today. Right? That's remembering something. Reopening is I can't allow myself to enjoy today because they're gone. Does that make sense? Remembering is they would have loved this. But reopening is I shouldn't experience this because they can't. I'm sorry y'all come close up to my face. I gotta get my battery over here. Imagine that. I forgot. Remembering them. Honors their love. Remembering simply honors their love. There's nothing wrong with that, right? Reopening can become self-punishment. You deserve compassion. Stop punishing yourself because they lost, they are lost. Remember and honor the love. Stop punishing yourself by reopening the wound. Guilt sometimes wears a disguise. I see it in a lot of my friends. Grief guilt takes on many forms. You will sit and ponder on all the things. I should have called more. I should have noticed something was up. I should have visited more. I should have gone that last time. I shouldn't have argued with them. I shouldn't have said what I said. I should have known. I should have done more. Sometimes there are things we genuinely wish we had done differently. part of being a human being, right? Hindsight. Hindsight's twenty twenty, they say. Hindsight can give us information we didn't always have in the moment. You are living the relationship, not preparing for a death. Nobody behaves every day as though it will be the final conversation. Not routinely anyway. If we did, life would be very unbearable. Try to offer your former self some compassion. We all deserve a little compassion, right? So when you need help with grief. What do you do? Who do you reach out to? Sometimes you don't think you should. Sometimes you don't even know you should. There are times when grief becomes so consuming that getting support really matters. If months pass and you feel completely unable to function If despair remains overwhelming. If you isolate from everyone. If guilt consumes you If your life begins shrinking rather than slowly expanding, Talking with a grieved counselor, a therapist, support group, clergy members, or trusted professionals can help. I promise. Getting support does not mean you loved them too much. It means the loss was heavy. And heavy things are easier to carry, aren't they? When somebody helps, heavy things are easier to carry when Somebody helps. Let them help you carry that. Let them help you unload it. Can you get your smile back? I think you can. You have to want to get it back. Let's make it, let's make it, I don't know. Let's make it practical. Let's make this practical. So you don't force happiness. That never works. So what do you do? You create small opportunities for life. Start tiny. Sit outside with the coffee. Take a walk. Get yourself a goal list, a playlist of music that you love, that doesn't necessarily have to remind you of them. Cook something you used to enjoy. Go see somebody who makes you laugh. Call somebody that makes you laugh. Watch that ridiculous movie that you think is such a girl flick and you're worried that if somebody knew you were watching it, you'd they'd judge you. Go watch that ridiculous movie. Go somewhere beautiful. Go watch a waterfall. Go sit in the gardens. The Botanical gardens of sorts. Buy yourself some flowers. Just take a little drive through the country. Historical downtowns, little small towns. Go take a drive. If water is your thing, go visit water. Go sit by the lake. Go sit at the at the ocean, at the beach. Plant something. Maybe even go volunteer somewhere. Donate your time to give back. Go back to church if you've stopped. Start a hobby. Start a start a grief. group. Travel. Write journals. Create something. Don't demand that I need to be happy again. I may be using the words, what would make today feel 5% lighter? Sometimes healing happens five percent at a time. Don't push it. You don't have to be a hundred percent better today. You only have to learn to let the load become lighter one day, one step at a time. Make a list of saying of things that once made you feel alive, not what should make you happy. But what actually does? Not what should make you happy, but what actually does. Is it music? Is it animals? Go get that dog, go get that cat, go get that bird. Bunny, whatever it is. Is it gardening? Go get some plants, do some gardening. Is it that beach trip? Take it. Is it grandchildren? Spend more time with them. Do you like football? Find some on TV. Go find some local games. Go join a painting class. Go take a dancing class. Cooking. If you like to cook, find some new recipes. Cook. Go travel. Whatever the small joy list is. Find a group of friends that you truly enjoy to be with. Go find the sunsets. Start chasing sunsets. Then slowly start reintroducing those things into your life. Make the list of the things. My husband's not supposed to be doing this right now, but yet here he is. Imagine that. So at first joy may feel strange, right? It's gonna feel strange. You're gonna feel guilty. It's gonna make you feel a certain way. Let it. Hear me when I say that. Let it. Your nervous system is going to have to learn that life contains safety again. Learn to let it contain that safety again. This can be beautiful. This moving on can be beautiful. All of it can make a world of difference for you. And you can still do a lot of these things and honor them. You can incorporate doing things that they would have loved. Go seeing things that they would have loved to see. Go do the things they would love to see you do. It can be beautiful. Visit that place. Take that trip. Finish that project. Wear the damn dress. Get that tattoo. Go dance at that wedding. Maybe even start your business that you've been putting off. Laugh a little loudly today. Do something where you can almost hear them saying that's my girl. Or that's my boy. And let that feeling become permission. Give yourself permission to live loudly for them. Create a legacy ritual. Find something that keeps them present without keeping you track. Maybe light a candle on their birthday. Let it let a balloon go. Maybe cook their favourite meal. Ma maybe donate something that they cared about. Say say they cared about a certain particular type of like goodwill or salvation army or any of these D V domestic violence places, thrift stores that collect money for beaten and battered women. Donate something to them. Plant a tree in their honor. heck, if you even have the ability, make a scholarship in their name of something that they would have loved to know that they're helping somebody to achieve an education that they would have never been able to achieve without that scholarship. Tell one funny story every Christmas. Heck. Most of the the women that pass have a ton of jewelry. Wear a piece of their jewelry. Sure you can find something that you wouldn't mind wearing. Make sure you keep their recipes if if they had a lot of good recipes. Make a playlist. That reminds you of them. But don't forget to have that playlist that brings you joy too. Cause you can intertwine the two. Visit somewhere meaningful. The goal isn't to constantly mourn. I'm trying to get you to see the different things that you can do so you can step away from the constant mourning. It's intentional remembering. It's intentional living. You have to live intentionally to honor their legacy, to honor who they are. Speak their name. People often stop mentioning someone who's died because they fear upsetting the grieving person. But many grieving people are thinking, please say their name. I don't want them forgotten. Please don't forget them. Silence doesn't protect us from remembering. Speak about them, laugh, tell their stories, let their name still live in the room. Kind of a final question I think that I want to put in this for you guys, because I usually have you interactive with this. What part of life feels stuck since the loss? What are you afraid of that will happen if you feel happy again? Do you believe that suffering proves that you loved them tremendously? What would your loved one want for your future? What would your loved one want for your future? What parts of them do you you want to carry forward? What parts of the grief are you ready to stop carrying now? Do you remember more about how they died than how they lived? You're stuck in limbo if that's the case. What story about their life deserves to be told? What would make today five percent lighter? What joy have you denied yourself because of guilt? What would living fully in their honor look like? And who are you becoming now? What dreams are still yours? What relationships still need your love? Because don't forget there are still other people around that need your love, that need you to show up for them. What life is still waiting for you on the other side of your limbo? So if you're listening to this while grieving someone that you love, I wish I could pull a chair up beside you. Genuinely, I do. Because grief can be incredibly lonely, especially once everyone thinks you should be doing better. But there is something I want you to remember in all of this. You don't have to choose between loving them and living. Those two things can exist together. You can carry them and keep walking. You can miss them and smile. You can cry on their birthday and laugh the next day. You can love the life you had and still build a life that exists after them. Moving forward is not abandonment. Healing is not betrayal. Joy is not disrespect. Laughter does not erase love. And your smile coming back does not mean they mattered less. Maybe it means something beautiful. Maybe it means their love gave you something fair. stronger. Maybe maybe it means their love gave you strength. To keep leaving, keep living, keep living. Sorry. My ears started talking to me and it kinda threw me off balance. I don't even know what I was saying. Anyway, keep living. Keep living. And maybe one day instead of thinking only I wish they were here, you will also think, I'm so grateful they were here at all. A different kind of grief. Still tender, still bittersweet, but softer. Eventually you may tell a story about them and smile before you cry. Then some day you may tell it and only smile. Don't feel guilty when that day comes. That smile is not evidence that you've forgotten. It may be evidence that the memory finally learned how to live beside the pain. So when life offers you another beautiful moment, take it. Take it. When somebody makes you laugh, laugh. When love finds you, don't automatically run from it. When adventure calls, go. When your family gathers, be present. Take pictures, make memories, live. Because someday. Someday. You will be somebody's memory too. And I don't think any of us would want the people we love spending the rest of their lives staring backward. We would want them telling our stories while creating some of their own. We would want them carrying our love, not carrying our funeral. That's the difference. So maybe you're not moving on, maybe you're learning how to move forward with their handprint permanently on your heart. They lived. They loved you. You loved them. Nothing changes that. And now they You get to live. Not instead of them, not because you're forgetting them, but partly because knowing them taught you just how precious life actually is. So find your smile again, slowly, gently, without an apology. And when that smile comes back, don't push it away. They didn't take your smile with them. It just needed a little time to find its way home. This is Back Porch Confessions. Take care of your heart. Give grief a space it deserves. But don't give it room in the house. Leave some room for laughter. Leave some room for memories. Leave some room for love. And most importantly, leave some room for life. I'll see you back here again. I hope you're willing to listen. Thank you guys. Remember, ten percent off of the mouth pouches. There'll be an ad. Oral pouchsolutions.com. Back porch can back porch ten is the discount. Anyway, if you need dry mouth pouches, go listen to the commercial. I'm getting the interview with Brent hopefully tomorrow for the back porch, the interviews. We'll see what happens with that. It's a deeper dive. Be prepared. Viewer and listener warning for sure. Enter at your own discretion. Anyway, love you guys. Thank you all for always listening to me. I hope this helped. Toodles. Gravesb41: If you're looking for beautiful, meaningful, and custom-made creations that tell a story, Little Butterfly Design and Print is where creativity and compassion come together. Cheryl specializes in personalized designs that celebrate life's most important moments, from custom shirts and prints to heartfelt gifts, memorial pieces and unique creations made just for you. Every design is crafted with intention, care, and a personal touch that you can feel. Whether you're honoring a loved one, supporting a cause, building your brand, or simply want something one of a kind, Cheryl brings your vision to life in a way that feels truly special. Little Butterfly Design and Print isn't just a business. It's a reminder that even the smallest ideas can transform into something beautiful. Support a small business that pours love into every detail. Find Little Butterfly Design and Print by Cheryl A. Harlan online and see how she can create something meaningful just for you. Y'all, let me tell you about one of my favorite little gyms back home in Robinson, Illinois. If you're looking for boutique style that feels good, fits right, and doesn't break the bank, you have to stop by Polished Boutique, owned by my sweet friend, Mindy, and her two friends, Jennifer and Valerie. And it's ran with heart, y'all. Polished is one of those places where you're not just shopping, you're family. From on-trend outfits, cozy everyday staples, statement accessories, and deals that make your wallet smile, Polished has something for every woman, every season of life. So if you're anywhere near Robinson, Illinois, go see Mindy and her girls at Polished Boutique. Tell them Back porch confession sent you. And don't be surprised if you leave feeling a little more confident than when you walked in. Polished Boutique, where style meets heart. Hey beautiful people, it's Barbara here from Backport's Confessions. You know, I am only gonna share what I truly love. And y'all, this one's a game changer. Our Way Skin by AYXA is a simple, luxurious skincare created with real women in mind. Think clean ingredients, formulas you can see and feel, smoother texture, that healthy glow and confidence looking back at you in the mirror. Whether you're juggling family, work, or just need a little self-care moment, Ixa's products give you spa quality results right at home. I'm obsessed with Our Way Skin and the way it makes my skin feel buttery soft. Go check out Our Way Skin by Ixa at ourwayskin.com and tell them Barbara sent you because your skin deserves to be cared for your way. That's a wrap on this episode of Back Porch Confessions. Where the tea is hot, the stories are real, and we never apologize for keeping it honest. Produced and edited by the magic makers over at Zay Media. Until next time, keep your porch talk spicy and your secrets safe, mostly.