When Grief Finds Us: Reflecting on Loss and Healing
In this deeply personal post, Natiki Hope Pressley reflects on the complex emotions of grief following the recent loss of a loved one. Through honesty, compassion, and faith, she offers comfort to anyone navigating loss—reminding us that healing takes time, and hope still lives, even in our hardest moments.
This week has been tough.
My family and I are walking through the tender, raw space of grief—the kind of grief that digs down deep and steals your breath. The kind of loss that reminds you how fragile life truly is.
Grief is not a straight line. It’s a winding, unpredictable journey. One moment you’re steady. The next, a memory, a song, a picture, can bring you to tears. There’s no “right” way to mourn, no perfect timeline. There is only presence: showing up for yourself, for your family, and holding on to the memories that will forever live in your heart.
In this season, I’m learning that healing through grief does not mean forgetting. It means honoring. It means sharing the stories. Lighting the candles. Saying the names. It means letting yourself feel everything—without apology or shame.
Grief invites us to pause. To reflect. To draw near to God, and to each other. And while it hurts, it also reveals the depth of God's love and ours. We grieve because we loved. And that love doesn’t disappear—it transitions with them. It takes on a new form; we reposition that love towards something or someone else.
So today, I invite you—wherever you are in your journey—to give yourself grace.
Whether you're grieving the loss of a loved one, a dream, a relationship, or a version of life you thought you'd have—your pain is real. And you are not alone.
This space—Health, Healing & Hope—is for that too.
Not just the high moments. But the honest ones. The heavy ones. The unforgettable ones.
As I continue to walk through this grief with my family, I’m reminded that healing is not about rushing to “feel better.” It’s about being honest with what we feel. It’s about finding hope—even if it’s just a flicker—for tomorrow.
If you’re grieving today, I see you and I acknowledge your pain. And I offer this gentle reminder: Healing is possible. Hope is alive. And you are held by God, by your family and community, and by every tender breath you are blessed to take.
With love and in memory,
Natiki