Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been overwhelmed by the messages, cards, and even gifts people have sent me following Tank’s death. Not only did these show kindness, but also understanding of how big a role he played in my life, how deeply intertwined into my identity his presence was. So THANK YOU to everyone who has reached out. During a very sad time, these gestures have made me feel seen and cared for.

I went to the barn for the first time after on Wednesday, to catch up with my friend who owns it and to drop off supplements and feed I had stored at home. I have other horse items to give away but I’m not ready yet to part with them. It’s not like holding on to Tank’s blanket will bring him back, I know. But it also makes the loss even more final. Every time I let go of a Tank thing, it feels like tearing off a fragment of my heart. There’s only so much I can lose at one time.

The past few years have been a season of loss for me. My dad in 2018, then my mother-in-law and mom in 2023. I’ve had more practice handling grief than I want, and one of the things I’ve learned is that you have to allow it to rise to the surface, you have to feel it for it to pass. You can’t let fear of the pain keep you from letting it in. You can manage it, put boundaries on it, find ways to support yourself through it…but you have to feel it.

I hate that.

I hate that I have a handful of articles in a file folder labeled “grief” and an Instagram collection called “healing.” I’m sad that I need these things, and yet, why wouldn’t I? No one is immune to loss, pain, suffering, or struggle. While we may not “like” going through any of these experiences (I surely don’t), we can emerge finer, kinder versions of ourselves because of them. We appreciate the joys and pleasures of life more because we’ve experienced loss and pain. We know the ebbs and flows of experience. We appreciate happiness more after suffering through misery. And, hopefully, we hold greater patience and kindness for others, remembering that we don’t know what they’re privately struggling with. Several people I’ve talked with recently have shared their experiences with depression, grief, and other heavy emotions—so if you’re going through something hard right now, you’re most definitely not alone.

I don’t want you to think I’m some Pollyanna-ish figure here, happily looking for the silver lining. On Wednesday when I went to the barn, I did the ugly cry again, and spent most of the afternoon on the couch recovering. Sadness still pops up frequently, tears welling in my eyes unexpectedly when a thought takes me by surprise. I still can’t fully take in that he’s gone, and when I have no choice but to recognize that fact, I’m devastated all over again. And his loss reminds me of those other losses, and well, you get the picture. I’ll be walking with grief again for a while.

At the same time, I’m exploring the idea that feeling deep grief also strengthens my ability to feel deep happiness. Exercising my emotional muscles, if you will. And with the clarity that strong emotion sometimes brings, I’ll be reveling in the first hint of cooler weather, the taste of a freshly-baked scone, and how wonderful it feels to sink into a comfortable bed at the end of a tiring day. I’m looking forward to exploring hobbies I’ve neglected (art!) and continuing the process of fully unpacking and settling in to our new home (which I absolutely love). Remembering that nothing and no one lasts forever, I’ll more deeply embrace life’s simple pleasures and everyday adventures, and hopefully, share them with you.