The brightest star

Everyone says Sana is in a better place, looking down at us. I wonder if this is something people say to make us feel better. From a religious or spiritual perspective, this notion holds true for many. It all boils down to faith. Nobody really knows the truth of why things happen. Is it for a better reason? At this point, I try and console myself, thinking she is in a better place. But is it enough to believe that? Not seeing her physical presence is the hardest part. How do you justify that she's in a better place when you can't see or touch her anymore? People say she's watching over us, but the void she left is so real and painful that sometimes it's hard to find comfort in that thought. Faith is supposed to bridge the gap between the seen and the unseen, but in moments of deep grief, even faith can feel fragile. The concept that she's in a better place might offer some solace, but it doesn't fill the emptiness left behind. The daily routines, the little moments we shared, all those things are now memories, and it's difficult to reconcile that with the idea of her being in a better place. The mind knows what it needs to believe to heal, but the heart struggles to follow. To think this will be the way we all end up, why is it so difficult to accept? Is it because we are so deeply attached to the physical presence of our loved ones? The touch, the voice, the laughter—these are the things that make us feel connected. Losing that connection feels like losing a part of ourselves. The notion of a better place is comforting in theory, but in practice, the absence is what we feel every day. I try to imagine Sana in a place of peace and happiness, free from the pain and struggles she faced. It’s a comforting image, one that helps me get through the toughest days. But the reality of not having her here is a constant challenge. The idea that we will all end up in a better place should bring comfort, yet the journey through grief is a personal, difficult path. In the end, faith might be the only thing we can cling to. Believing that there is a greater purpose, a higher plan, is what helps many of us move forward. For now, I hold on to the thought that Sana is in a better place, hoping that one day, this belief will bring more peace than pain. Until then, I navigate each day with the hope that her spirit continues to guide and watch over us, even if it’s from a place we can’t yet see.