I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

Your mum wrote the word “acceptance” in one of her recent posts and it got me thinking if I have reached that stage in grief yet. Some might be wondering, “Sha has to have reached it right? It’s been so long!” and I’d argue that grief has no timeline, but it has been a while and logically, theoretically, healthily, I should be there. I think in some ways I have. I am emotionally stable on most days of my week, and I cry, but I don’t do it as frequently. I still miss you loads and wonder how life could have looked like, but it is a silent missing that I try to keep within me. I am quite content with how grief has been looking for me lately.

When grief first begun in early 2025, I was both obsessive and compulsive in some ways. There were certain things I made myself think that, in hindsight, was completely silly but understandable. For example, purple. For the longest time everything I bought and could customize after you passed was purple because it’s your favorite color. It got to the point where even thinking of choosing another color felt like a betrayal – like I was forgetting you or wanting to move on. Sounds silly doesn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, I still choose purple when I can, but I have also accepted that it’s okay for me to get things in other colors. I also still get excited and touched when my friends buy me things in the color purple. But, it’s also alright for me to buy a bracelet in pink because it’s the color I like, or buy a travel bag in black because it’s not like me to carry a bright purple one. I could choose purple for everything, but I can also choose what I like and what I will use. It doesn’t mean I love you any less or am closer to “moving on”.

This is something I told your sister too. It was something I got her for her birthday, but instead of getting it in purple, I got it in the color of her birthstone (blue). I told her that it’s because some things should still be hers. As much as we love you, obsessively choosing things you might have chosen at our expense does not prove our love. Especially when it gets to the point of being mentally harmful to us. I remember how anxious and guilty I’d feel if I wanted to choose a different color, or have something you wouldn’t like, or think, “I wouldn’t have done this if Josh was here.” I don’t think that’s how you’d want us to live.

I don’t know when I overcame these feelings of guilt or anxiety for such silly things. I think I spoke to someone about it and they gently woke me up from this silly slumber. I can love you without it destroying me.

With that said, I’m still finding it difficult to do some things – also silly things. I like closing my eyes and listening to piano music because I can imagine you playing it from a few feet away. But I can’t do that for long or it makes me sad. I still can’t watch the movies and TV shows on our list that we never got to watch. That feels like a betrayal. I guess I haven’t gotten past all of the guilt. I still can’t read books I know you loved. I can’t bear to use the keychains you got me because I’m worried I’d lose them. I still add things to my “Joshua Box” of our memories, even though it has been a while since we made a memory together.

All silly things, but things that mean so much. I can feel grief getting easy to hold though. I feel “healthier”. Like the “kind” parts of grief are most of what I’ve kept with me. I like it. Oh, I’ve also picked up some new hobbies! Remind me to tell you about them soon.

Can’t wait to see you again. I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, and I’ll miss you more than you can imagine.

Love always,
Sha