The Light Runs Toward Your Grief

The sun is up, but your heart is still standing in the doorway of the room you just left. You made it through the night, yet the morning light feels like an intrusion on the grief you are carrying for what is now gone.

There is a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off. He did not wait for the speech or the cleanup.

He ran. Before the apology, before the new start began, he ran to meet the old pain with open arms.

The light does not ask you to forget the chapter that ended in order to begin this one. It runs toward you right now, in the middle of your hesitation.

You are not starting over from scratch. You are starting over with everything you learned in the dark now illuminated by the dawn.

The grief is the price of having loved the past, and the light honors that cost.