02/10/2026
I think grief is a little like being in a crowded street, constantly looking for someone you love.
You search through all the faces, half expecting to see them. And sometimes, for just a moment, you do. You catch a glimpse of them ahead of you, you see the back of their head, the way they walk, something so familiar that your heart immediately knows it’s them.
So you follow.
You try to catch up. You want to call out, "Wait. Stop. Slow down. Let me catch you.!"
But by the time you reach the corner, they’ve already turned it.
You hurry after them, hoping that when you turn the corner, and they’ll still be there. And for a second, you see them again, but they are already walking away, already disappearing around another corner.
And they’re gone.
That’s what grief feels like to me.
It’s not simply missing someone. It’s constantly looking for them. In crowds.
It’s the strange, aching feeling that they are always just ahead of you, always almost within reach. But not.
You keep thinking, 'If I could just get to them. If I could just make them stop for a moment. If I could just say their name'.
But you can’t.
They keep disappearing around corners you cannot follow them around.
And perhaps the hardest part is that some part of you never stops looking.
You know, somewhere deep down, that you will not find them standing there waiting for you. You know they are gone. But your heart doesn’t always understand what your mind knows.
So you keep looking.
You catch glimpses of them in the shape of someone walking ahead of you.
And every time, for just a moment, your heart thinks:
There you are.
And then, once again, they turn the corner.
Michelle Harvey Life Celebrant ©️ 2026
