Today, a beautiful photo made its way to my dear friend’s phone—and it brought her to tears.
It was a picture of her mother’s headstone. I never had the chance to meet her mom, but from the stories I’ve heard and the depth of love in my friend’s voice whenever she speaks of her, I know she was someone truly special.
The photo was simple, but it held so much. Behind the headstone stood trees in full bloom. It was as if the world paused just long enough to honor her. As if nature itself remembered who lay resting there and wanted to do something beautiful—something gentle—just for her.
The anniversary of her passing is coming up soon—April 22nd. And Easter is near too—one of her favorite holidays. This time of year is tender for my friend. The air is warmer, the blossoms return, and the ache of missing her mom rises quietly, wrapped in springtime.
Grief shows up in the softest ways. It catches us in the quiet. In photos. In sunlight through the branches. In things we can’t quite put into words.
But love shows up there too.
As I sat and looked at that photo and prayed for comfort for my friend, one scripture kept coming to mind:
“The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart…”
—Psalm 34:18
And I believe that. I believe He draws especially close during seasons like this—when the tears come quietly, when the blossoms fall softly, and when our hearts are aching just a little more than usual.
To my friend: I hope you know how deeply you are loved.
And how proud your mama must be of the woman you’ve become. I see you mothering your children with gentleness, with grit, with grace. I see you show up every day with more strength than you give yourself credit for.
You carry her with you in the way you live, love, and lead. You honor her in your laughter. In the values you teach your kids. In the way your heart stays open—even when it’s hurting.
I know she is so proud of you.
And in the rustle of blossoms and the beauty of this season, I hope you feel that. I hope you hear her in the quiet. I hope you know, without a doubt, she’s still near.
And I hope you always remember: even when grief feels heavy, love never leaves.
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