Hi ,

I want to share something with you over the next few days. It's a story about love, loss, and finding your way through the unimaginable.

Chances are grief has touched your life in some way—whether recently or in the past, whether your own or someone you care about. Maybe you're struggling to find your footing after loss. Maybe you're watching someone you love navigate their grief and feeling helpless to know how to support them.

This story mightn't be easy to read. But it's real, and it's honest, and I believe it captures something important about the journey through grief that we don't often talk about openly.

Over the next couple days emails, I'll share this story with you in parts. Take your time with it. Let it sit. See what resonates.

And when you're ready, I'll tell you about something I've been working on that might help.

Dr H

Before

I used to know the sound of your keys in the door at 6:47 PM. Not 6:45, not 6:50—always 6:47, like you'd timed your commute to the second just to keep our world predictable.

Emma would drop her coloring and run to the hallway, her small feet thundering across the hardwood, because Daddy was home and that meant tickle fights and bedtime stories with all the voices.

You'd sweep her up, spin her until she shrieked with laughter, then find me in the kitchen where I'd pretend to be too busy stirring pasta sauce to notice how my whole body relaxed when you walked in. But you always knew. You'd kiss my neck, right behind my ear, and whisper "How was your day, beautiful?" like it was the most important question in the world.

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This was my picture-perfect world growing up :(

And today, on my father's birthday, I treasure these memories.