9 April, Dear Remi🧡

When Rituals Soften

For the last three years, this day has held its own rhythm.

Moments to return to.

Ways of staying close.

This year feels different, not easier.

Not in a way that needs to be named.

It is just different.

There is an awareness that something is shifting.

Not the connection, that hasn’t changed.

But the way it is held.

For a long time, the daily rituals helped.

They gave shape to something that had no structure.

They created a place to go when everything felt too open, raw, and not ready to move.

They weren’t forced.

They were needed.

And they mattered, deeply.

Recently, something has been moving underneath.

A sense that holding onto the rituals in the same way may no longer be what keeps the connection alive.

That maybe, it’s time to let some of them soften.

Not disappear.

Not be replaced.

Just… not needed in the same way.

There is a hesitation in that.

That letting go of the rituals may mean letting go of her.

But the nervous system knows this is not the case.

What feels true is softer:

That the connection exists with or without the structure around it.

Remi knew.

In the way she always did.

There was never force between us.

Never something held just to hold it.

Only what was real in the moment.

And this feels like that again.

So nothing is rushed today.

Not holding onto something just because it has always been done.

I’ll let the day be what it is.

Present.

Open.

Connected.

Grief doesn’t disappear.

It changes shape.

And sometimes, moving through it means trusting that it doesn’t need to be repeated the same way to still exist.

She is not the rituals.

Or the tears falling.

She never was.

She is in the connection that remains when nothing is being forced to be held in place.

And that feels like something I am beginning to understand.