How I’m Facing the Grieving Process Head On This Time

A shattered glass heart on a sandy beach reflects the fading sunset light, contrasting its fragile pieces with the enduring ocean, evoking love, loss, and heartbreak.



A heartfelt reflection on loss, connection, and the courage to fully feel, in memory of my friend Alron.


Remembering My Friend Alron

Last Wednesday, I learned that my friend Alron had passed away. It’s still sinking in, and the weight of grief is heavy. Thinking back to the first time I met him, I had no idea that one day I’d be grieving him so profoundly.

I met Alron at a time in my life when I was in an abusive relationship with my son’s father and planning for single motherhood to secure our safety. Alron and his wife were generous, supportive, and truly like family to me. Their presence offered a sense of stability and care that I hadn’t known before, and that bond made his loss even more profound.

The last time I heard from Alron was in December 2025, and I keep wondering what he was going through in his life at that time. Those unanswered questions leave a heaviness, but also remind me of the importance of cherishing the moments and connections we do have.


Recognizing My Patterns

I’ve always noticed that I tend to hold people at arm’s length. Growing up as an adoptee, fully bonding with my family opened a wound of abandonment that I wasn’t even aware I was carrying. When someone broke my trust, or when I felt unsafe or unsupported, I instinctively put up a wall. At the time, I didn’t fully understand why I was a preteen, maybe a teenager, just learning to navigate relationships and protect my heart.

These patterns shaped how I connect with others, and even with someone I cared about deeply, like Alron, I realized I was sometimes cautious, slow to fully open. Losing him has reminded me how much those walls can soften when a connection truly matters.


Facing Grief Head On

This time, I’m choosing to face my grief directly. I don’t want to disassociate or avoid my feelings. I want to feel the pain, the sadness, the memories, and sit with them fully. Part of this process is reflecting on myself: why I keep walls up, why I protect my heart, and how loss exposes the fragility and the beauty of human connection.

Even though it hurts, I want to make the most of this painful experience. It’s teaching me about trust, about opening to others, and about valuing the people who break through the walls we hold around ourselves. Facing grief isn’t easy, but I’m learning that it can also be a path toward understanding, compassion, and deeper connection.


A Reflection on Connection and Loss

Grief has a way of making you pause and notice things you might otherwise take for granted. Every relationship, every moment of genuine connection, becomes precious. Losing someone like Alron can feel unbearable, but it also reminds us that showing up for others and for ourselves is what matters most.

I’m honoring Alron by allowing myself to feel, reflect, and remember, and by acknowledging the lessons his presence in my life left behind. Grief doesn’t have a timeline, and healing doesn’t have an expiration date. Facing it fully, head-on, is how I choose to navigate this loss.


A lone wooden cross stands on a grassy landscape at sunset, with fiery orange and red skies illuminating the scene, evoking tranquility and spiritual reflection.


Tribute to Alron

Alron was more than a friend; he was family to my son and me. He showed us a level of genuine kindness that I had rarely experienced before, and it left an imprint on my heart that can never be erased. He was our safe harbor during the storms of life, a quiet guide, and a constant example of generosity and compassion.

The only tangible pieces I have left of him are a collection of photos from my baby shower and my son’s birth. I don’t think I’ll be able to look at them for quite some time. The grief is still so raw, and at times it feels like a literal heavy heart, enough to take my breath away. But I am grateful to have them, fragments of a love so real it still feels alive. He was my brother forever, my friend, and every memory I have of him reminds me of how deeply one person can touch your life. Even in his absence, his spirit lives on in the ways he shaped our lives. I will carry him with me always.


Closing Thought

If you’re grieving, know that it’s okay to sit with the pain. It’s okay to remember, to reflect, and to feel vulnerable. Facing grief directly is hard, but it’s also a way to honor those we’ve loved and to learn about ourselves in the process.


A Note on Support

While this blog is reflective and research-informed, it is not a substitute for professional mental health care. If you are experiencing a crisis or need support, please contact a qualified mental health professional or your local services. Your well-being is the priority, and professional guidance is essential to any recovery journey.

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