This photo is of an old house I recently walked by.

It was sitting in the middle of a cow pasture and had been moved from it's original foundation.

I thought about how grief feels just like this when you lose someone you love.

It's devastating.

It's as if all your windows are blown out and you've lost your foundation.

You're not sure what anything means or who you are anymore.

You're not even sure where you belong.

All you know is that you are on some kind of trailer, called grief, and it is carrying you into the unknown.

I was exploring this metaphor with someone recently and she provided a valuable insight: "Yeah, I may be in a new cow pasture, but I've got a few bricks still underneath me to hold me up". She went on to name her remaining bricks.

How about you?

What holds you up when you feel like collapsing? What holds you up when you don't know where grief will take you?

What are your bricks?

It's okay if your grief is so raw that you can't think of any. I get what it's like to be in that place, too.

Just know that there will come a day when you will wake up one morning and get out of bed like you usually do.

You'll stub you toe on a brick that you hadn't even noticed.

You'll know its name.