*Day Six
Touching into your grief can be brutal. Even when the pain never actually leaves you, sometimes purposely turning to face it can be exceptionally hard. So today, let’s focus on finding some kindness within all this pain. For all you have been through, for all you have seen, kindness is what’s needed.

Kindness is a weird and slippery thing. Most of us can be kind to other people. That’s easy. From the outside, we can see that others deserve some softness around them, some relief from their own internal battles. But being kind to ourselves?

Kindness is a measure of respect for what one has endured, and self-respect? It’s just not that easy. Learning to treat yourself as though you are someone you love is a life-long process for many people. Let’s get started with it, with this prompt. For all you have lived, for all you have endured, you deserve kindness.

Today’s prompt:

What would it mean to offer kindness to yourself in your grief?

What would kindness look like?*


“Why didn’t I…”
I have asked myself this question so many times.
Why didn’t I take more videos?
Why didn’t I take a picture with you that day in the park?
Why didn’t I call you the night before you died?
Why didn’t I tell you I love you before you left my house on Wednesday?
Why didn’t I know it was you last day on earth?

Kindness to myself right now would be to give myself the words that are no longer given to me through my parents.

Of course you don’t have more videos, you were in the moment with us. We were enjoying ourselves too much to stop and capture it. We captured it in our souls.

I wasn’t at the park long enough for you to take a picture.

It makes sense that you didn’t call me the night before. I told you I wanted to have an early night. You respected that.

I always knew you loved me without you giving it words.

You didn’t know it was our last day on earth because no one ever does.

There would never be enough time for us to be together. No amount of videos or pictures would make this ending feel less painful. We were magical together. None of us wanted that magic to end. We’re crying with you. We love you.


Kindness inside my grief would be letting myself know that I couldn’t stop this from happening. This happened.
It’s ripping me apart.
It’s meant to rip me apart.

Kindness inside my grief would be to put down all the questions and let myself live inside the words, “we were supposed to live our lives together,” for as long as I need.