Every year when November 1 arrives, my thoughts gently drift back to my father.

He passed away when I was just thirteen years old, and my sister was only ten. He was an aircraft mechanic who worked overseas for most of our childhood. Because of his contracts, it was usually just my mom holding down the fort at home.

But whenever his vacation rolled around or a contract ended, my dad’s presence filled our house with quiet kindness. He was a good husband and a gentle, provider father.

Growing up without him during my teenage years meant I did not have many memories to hold onto. Sometimes, I catch myself thinking that if he had lived longer, I would have learned from his gentle example what kind of man I should have chosen for my own life.

Yet, as the years go by, I realize that the love he gave us—no matter how brief the years were—left a permanent mark on my heart.

✧

When we are younger, grief feels like a dark, heavy wall. But as mothers, our understanding of loss evolves.

Grief is simply a bridge we cross so we can gently let go of the people who have gone ahead. As Catholics, we hold onto the comforting truth that this life is temporary. We are all just passing through.

Because of that, goodbyes are never permanent. They are just a “see you later.”

Knowing that we will meet our loved ones again changes how we live today. I try to pass this perspective down to my daughters: live with kindness, hold onto a positive outlook, and trust that no matter how difficult the road gets, God is always walking right beside us.

✧

There is a line from the K-drama Goblin that captures this so beautifully. When the female lead comforts the main character as he mourns a dear friend, she says:

“He must have kept turning back to look. He’d be worried a lot about you. That’s why the ones left behind should live even harder. We might cry from time to time, but we should smile a lot and cheer up. You’re obligated to do that in return for the love you have received.”

That line hits straight to the heart.

In return for the love we were blessed to receive from those who went before us, we owe it to them—and to ourselves—to live fully.

✧

This Undas, it is okay if a few tears fall. It is okay to miss the sound of a voice, a gentle smile, or the quiet safety of someone’s presence.

But do not let grief trap you in sadness.

The best way to honor our loved ones is to smile, laugh, cherish our children, and live our lives with joy and purpose. They loved us well while they were here, and living fully is the sweetest way to say thank you.

After all, brighter seasons always await us on the other side.

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Thank you for spending a few quiet moments here.

May you leave carrying a little more hope than when you arrived.

With love,