Dear Melinda:

I read both of your posts—your September 2024 share, and your recent update 6 months later—and I want to acknowledge everything you’ve been through. Your pain and the immense challenges you have faced deserve to be heard and recognized.

In September, you shared the heartbreaking loss of your son and the unbearable grief that followed. You also opened up about the betrayal from your sister and nieces over your son’s ashes, which led to painful conflict and the end of those relationships. On top of that, you spoke about losing your best friend after she abandoned you during such a vulnerable time and even acted aggressively at your son’s funeral. All of this left you feeling numb, stuck, and alone.

Since then, it seems like even more challenges have come your way. Your mother’s actions caused you to lose your job, and her unkind words about you left a deep wound. Then, losing your laptop—and with it your son’s photos and voice recordings—was another devastating loss of his memory. More recently, your apartment flooded, forcing you to leave with only a few belongings, your pets, and temporary shelter. Weeks later, you’re still without access to your things, stuck in a motel, and feeling even more isolated and scared.

Your question about why so much negativity keeps happening is a reflection of how much pain and exhaustion you’re carrying. It’s clear you’ve been through so much, and you’ve survived it all, even though it feels unbearable.

I want to add a poem just for you:

When the world feels dark, and the nights stretch long,
Know you carry a strength that’s quiet, but strong.

Each tear you’ve cried has a story to tell,
Of courage, of love, and the battles you’ve held.
Even in loneliness, your spirit survives,
A testament to the will that keeps you alive.

The path may be rugged, the climb may be steep,
But you hold within you treasures to keep.

Though the storm feels endless, and the skies stay gray,
Remember, clouds part, and sun finds its way.
You’re not defined by the trials you’ve met,
But by the resilience that won’t let you forget—

That your story is yours, a narrative of might,
Where even the shadows bow down to your light.
Take heart, dear soul, though the journey is tough,
You are brave, you are strong—and you are enough.

anita