Catching Up to What Happened

I don’t have many words today. I’m moving through shock and trying to make sense of a week that shifted without warning.

What I can say is this: sometimes life asks us to carry grief and responsibility at the same time. To show up in court, to answer emails, to lead, to parent — all while our hearts are still trying to catch up to what happened. It’s challenging as hell to lead while you’re grieving, especially when you don’t do death well. I don’t.

For the past six months, I’ve sat next to the same woman every Sunday. Same row. Same rhythm. Same quiet familiarity. And now, as I think about this coming Sunday, I honestly don’t know where I’m going to sit. I don’t know if I can sit in my usual spot. I don’t know if my heart can handle the empty space where she should be.

I keep noticing how grief shows up in the small places before it shows up anywhere else. Not the big questions yet — just a seat. A routine. A space that used to feel ordinary and now feels like a decision I’m not ready to make.

And still, life keeps moving. Responsibilities don’t pause. Deadlines don’t shift. Court dates don’t reschedule themselves. So I’m doing the best I can. Breathing. Moving slower than usual. Trying to meet the demands of the day without pretending my spirit isn’t still catching up.

I don’t have clarity about all of this yet. I don’t know if I’ll sit somewhere different Sunday, or force myself back to the same spot, or just stand in the back. I’m giving myself permission to not know yet — and if you’re carrying something heavy while still trying to function, I hope you can give yourself that same grace.