Dear Cherished Reader,
Tonight, I found myself driving home through the quiet darkness of the early morning, lost in thoughts of my precious Nia. It’s a time of night I usually avoid, as it brings back memories of that 1:30 AM call—frantic voices and desperate attempts to save my baby girl’s life. Since then, the late hours have become a time when shadows linger longer than the night itself.
Yet, in these recent months, I’ve discovered a new kind of light—one that shines through my granddaughter, Nia’s niece. Spending time with her has been a bittersweet comfort, her laughter and curious questions filling a space in my heart that grief once made hollow.
My granddaughter is nearly eight now, a little soul with a wisdom beyond her years. She has a way of bringing me back to those simple, joyful moments I shared with Nia at the same age. We’ve spent hours decorating her bedroom in their new home, and it wasn’t until we placed the last little trinket on her shelf that I realized how much the room mirrored Nia’s from years ago. It’s as if, through her, I am gently cradling the memories of my Niaboo.
Each morning, I arrive at her home by 6:50 AM to help with her routine—making breakfast, brushing her teeth, tidying up her room, and getting her ready for the day. These simple acts remind me of a time when Nia’s needs filled my days. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m trying to hold on to that feeling, to the joy of being needed, to the love that remains even when the person is gone.
In moments like these, I feel the boundary between grief and love blur. Nia’s spirit is present in the laughter of her niece, in the morning rituals that bring me a sense of purpose. It’s as if my granddaughter’s life has become a new lens through which I see Nia’s love—an unbroken connection that continues to light my path.
If you find yourself holding on to memories through new love, dear reader, know that it’s okay. There’s no right way to carry the ones we’ve lost. Sometimes, the best we can do is find comfort in the love that lingers, in the echoes of those we hold dear.
With love and enduring hope,
LaTanya Black
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