Walking Into 2026 With Grief in My Hands

Going into 2026 is hard.

Hard because it means I am facing year four without my daughter here. Saying that out loud still doesn’t feel real. Time keeps moving forward, even when my heart feels like it’s standing still.

I know I am not alone in this. There are other moms stepping into a new year without their child, too. For some, this may be their first year. For others, it may be year five, ten, or even twenty. And while the number of years may be different, the ache is something we all understand.

I often say that I don’t think this will ever get easier for me—and I still believe that’s true. What I am learning is how to navigate this new season of life. A season I never asked for. A season that is heavy, heartbreaking, and deeply lonely at times.

I think, as the years go on, I will continue to grow around my grief. Not past it. Not over it. Around it.

From the outside, people may look at me and think I’m doing better. That I’m healed. That I’ve conquered my grief journey. But that would be a huge misconception. Grief doesn’t work that way—especially for mothers who have lost a child.

What I want those who have never lost a child to understand is this:
For us moms, it never gets easier.
We don’t get over it.
We don’t move on from it.

We survive it—day by day—the best way we know how.

As I step into 2026, one of my biggest goals is to talk about my daughter even more. I don’t want people to forget her. I want people to say her name. I want them to share their memories of her, to smile when they think of her, to remember the light she brought into this world.

I also want to draw even closer to God and strengthen my walk with Him. He is the reason I am still standing. He is the reason I have hope. He promises that one day I will hold my girl again, and until that day comes, I want to live in a way that honors Him—and honors her.

I want to be a light for God and for my girl even more in 2026.

If you are starting a new year without your child, my prayer for you is this: look up and keep moving. Seek God, even when your heart feels too broken to pray. Live in a way that keeps your child’s memory alive so the world doesn’t forget them. Find purpose in the pain, even if it takes time.

You don’t have to walk this journey alone.
We can make it through—together.