A Day of Paint, Sip, and Remembering My Sunshine

: Some days, the weight of grief feels unbearable. It’s hard to explain why some days are more painful than others—sometimes, it’s a memory or a trigger, but sometimes, it’s just the raw, aching pain of missing someone you love. Yesterday was one of those days for me. The heaviness sat in my chest, and no matter what I did, it lingered. Grief, like that, is unpredictable. Today, however, was different. As a family, we decided to do something special in honor of Sana as her birthday approaches. We attended a paint and sip event, an activity she absolutely loved. The last time Sana had gone to one of these events was in Singapore, celebrating the upcoming wedding of her best friend. It was something we had talked about doing together many times, but somehow, we never got the chance. As we gathered our brushes and sipped on our drinks, I could feel her presence in the room. It was a fun afternoon, full of creativity and laughter, but all of it was tinged with her memory. We each painted our own version of the same picture, yet no two paintings were alike. It struck me how much this mirrored the experience of grief. We’re all painting the same picture of loss and healing, but each of our paths looks different, unique in its expression and pain. And that’s okay—there’s no right or wrong way to navigate grief. There are no judgments on how we move through the process. Throughout the event, I could imagine Sana’s invisible laughter echoing in the room, her joy filling the space. It was almost as if she were there with us, cheering us on, as we honored her in our own way. My heart missed her, but today felt like a tribute to her spirit. The day was truly dedicated to her—my sunshine, who still brings light into the world, even in her absence. Grief may be unpredictable, but in moments like these, when we gather as a family to celebrate the love we had for Sana, it feels like a small step toward healing.