Sasha’s Story

Have you ever survived the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?

I have. Twice.

Both of my parents died, six years apart. First it was my mom. Then, my dad.

When my mom died, I was 29. She was 52. It was sudden; a car accident. We had just come back from a trip to Cuba, our first real vacation together. And for once, we were good. Our relationship hadn’t always been easy. There were many years of tension, misunderstandings, and silence, but something shifted as I got older. We softened toward each other. We started laughing and talking more. We started seeing each other as women, not just mother and daughter. That trip was full of quiet healing. I didn’t know how much I’d cling to those memories until she was gone.

Losing her cracked something open in me. It was grief, yes, but it was also guilt, confusion, loneliness, and this aching wish that we’d had more time in that better place. I wish that we’d had a second chance to stay close. I felt like our relationship had finally just started to be where it should be, and then it was over.

Years later, I lost my dad too. And that second loss knocked me off my feet in a different way. It was like becoming untethered from the earth. Orphaned. Even as an adult, I didn’t feel ready. This layer of now both parents gone enraged me. It wasn’t fair and I was angry with the world.

At first, I honestly didn’t think I’d survive it all. There were days I didn’t want to get out of bed, and I physically couldn’t. There were days I didn’t recognize myself. There were days when I couldn’t remember how it felt to be okay.

But I did survive.

And slowly, over time, I’ve learned how to live again; not without grief, but alongside it. I’ve made a conscious effort to find joy, even when it’s fleeting. I strive to laugh, even when my heart aches, and I remember that I am allowed to feel both things at once.

I honour my parents now by telling the truth about grief and about how complicated it is. I share stories and reminders about how it doesn’t just come in tears, but in silence, in forgetfulness, in relief, in guilt, in laughter that surprises you and makes you cry seconds later. I talk about it because I know how isolating it can feel.

I’ve written books about grief and all the feelings no one warns you about. The ones that sneak in and make you feel broken or ungrateful or strange. I write to validate those feelings, for myself and for others. If you’ve lost someone and felt something unexpected, you’re not alone and you are not wrong.

This is my story. But maybe it’s yours too.

If you’re here, reading this, I hope you’ll keep going. Not just through the words on this page, but through the life you’re still living. There is joy to be found, I promise, even in the middle of grief.

You can carry both. I do.

If you would like to read more, my Riding the Waves series, created to help others navigate grief and all the emotions that come with it, is available on Amazon. I hope it brings comfort, validation, and a reminder that you are not alone.

 With Love,

Sasha Rose Carmella Howell