Honoring Life's Unspoken Griefs [ A Memoir ]

You know, ever since I turned 40, I’ve noticed the changes in my face—the way my smile sits differently, the crow’s feet near my eyes, the bags that carry the weight of countless sleepless nights. My muscles aren’t as tight, my energy not as boundless, and I’ve come to realize something profound: I’m grieving.

I’m grieving the way I used to look, the way I used to feel, the ease with which my body once moved through the world.

We don’t often acknowledge this kind of grief. Culturally, grief is tied to losing a loved one. But life is filled with these quieter, smaller griefs that don’t come with sympathy cards or ceremonies. Grief exists in the spaces where life doesn’t go as planned—in friendships that faded without closure, in the career that didn’t work out, in the move that took you away from familiarity. These are the smaller deaths, the losses that don’t draw public sympathy but still leave an imprint on our hearts.

We grieve the confidence we once had, the home where memories were made, the relationships we thought would last forever. The routine that once felt secure is gone, and in that loss, we often feel alone because society only recognizes grief when it comes to a funeral.

But our grief is real. Our sadness is valid. Just because the world doesn’t name it doesn’t mean it isn’t worthy of recognition and healing.

Grieving these smaller losses isn’t about being stuck in the past—it’s about honoring what mattered to us. It’s about allowing ourselves to feel, to process, and to make peace with the changes, even the ones we choose. A planned move can still bring grief because it means leaving something behind.

As a missionary who traveled for seven and a half years with my family, every move was just as hard as the last. It never got easier. Saying goodbye, knowing I might never return to that village or see those people again, broke my heart. I missed the fellowship, the community, the structure, the routine. And as a mother, I carried the grief of my son, who was trying to understand it all—his friendships, his sense of belonging, slipping away with each move.

Yet, with every farewell came new hellos—new traditions, new cultures, new faces. And both of these emotions coexisted: excitement for what was to come, grief for what was left behind. I had to learn to carry pieces of the past with me. What could I take forward? What lessons, what love, and what deep connections could I bring to the next chapter of my journey? Instead of leaving it all behind, I found ways to expand my ability to love, empathize, and help others navigate their transitions.

So if you’re feeling the weight of a loss that isn’t death, know this: it’s okay to grieve. You don’t need permission to mourn the life you thought you’d have, the friendships that slipped away, or the body that doesn’t feel like home anymore.

Grief isn’t just about saying goodbye—it’s about learning how to move forward, piece by piece, with love for what was and hope for what is to come.

If you’re grieving, RTR is here to support you. Fill out the form below to reach out to our team today.