Do you ever feel torn between the past, present, and future? Balancing these three dimensions of time can be overwhelming, leaving you feeling stuck. How can embracing mindfulness and reflection help you gain clarity, find peace in the present, and approach the future with confidence and self-awareness?
This year has been one of the most challenging of my life. In the span of just ten days, I lost two women who shaped my world—my mother and my grandmother. Their passing was unexpected, neither terribly sick, and yet, I was left with an emptiness I had never felt before.
As I sifted through the emotions of grief, I found myself being pulled in three places at once. I was looking back, reviewing the past and trying to understand how much of me was intertwined with them. At the same time, I had to assess my present—where I stood and how I had arrived at this point in my life. And then there was the future, looming ahead, filled with plans I’d already set in motion, built on years of hard work and preparation.
How do we reconcile the weight of these three places—past, present, and future?
Grief, it seems, doesn’t wait for clarity. It arrives abruptly, demanding attention and pulling you in different directions. And yet, amidst the pain, I’ve found fleeting glimpses of gratitude—not just for where I’ve been, but also for where I am and where I’m going. The past feels heavy with memories and lessons, the present is a fragile balancing act, and the future looms, uncertain yet undeniable. These moments of reflection don’t offer answers, but they create space to explore what it means to be in all three places at once.
Grieving the Past
When my mother and grandmother passed within ten days of each other, I was left in shock. I wasn’t prepared for their absence, and even more, I wasn’t prepared for the questions it left me with about myself. For so long, I had been their daughter and granddaughter, shaped by their love and their expectations. But now, without them here, I began to wonder: How much of me was truly my own?
Their relationship had always been complex. My mother, struggling with alcoholism, had her own battles, and my grandmother—stoic and traditional—often found herself at odds with her daughter. Watching them over the years, I had learned how to navigate the emotional waters of our family, making decisions about who I wanted to be in response to their struggles. It’s what led me to become a social worker—a way to understand and, in some ways, heal from the dynamics that shaped me.
In the quiet moments after their passing, I realized that while I carried pieces of them with me, I had also carved out my own path. I had worked hard to get to where I am, but their absence left me questioning what it all meant without them here to witness it. I longed for the comfort of their recognition and approval—the kind of validation that only their presence and understanding could provide, reminding me that my efforts and achievements mattered to them as much as they did to me.
Grief pulls you backward, forcing you to review the life you’ve built and the choices that brought you to the present.
In this space of reflection, I began to see the ways their influence intertwined with my own hard-won independence. The memories of their love, their lessons, and even their struggles had shaped the foundation of who I am today. Yet, as much as grief demands we look back, it also quietly urges us to find meaning in where we are now—and where we hope to go next.
Gratitude for the Present
Despite the pain of loss, I began to reflect on the life I’ve built for myself. Looking back on my journey, I saw the sacrifices, the work, the achievements, and the lessons that shaped me. I recalled the years I spent earning my undergraduate and graduate degrees, balancing the demands of academia and personal growth, all while navigating the complexities of family dynamics.
I made hard choices, and most of them turned out to be the right ones for me. I became a social worker not just in response to my mother’s struggles, but as a way to help others in the ways I wished someone could have helped her. And here I am, in the very position I worked so hard to attain. Along the way, I’ve learned a lot about myself and others. The fulfillment I feel today isn’t just about professional success—it’s about knowing that I’ve honored my own path while coming to terms with the experiences and environment that shaped me. I feel a deep sense of gratitude in this realization.
Gratitude for the present is a quiet acknowledgment of the path I’ve traveled and the person I’ve become.
Even as grief lingers, I find myself grounded in this moment, aware of the hard-won balance between where I’ve been and where I stand now. This gratitude doesn’t erase the pain of loss, but it steadies me, reminding me that this present is a foundation—a place to rest and reflect before continuing forward.
Planning for the Future
Even in the midst of grief, the future gently calls, reminding me that life continues to unfold. I find myself returning to the work of building a life that feels both stable and meaningful. Over the years, I’ve carefully laid the groundwork for a future where I can savor the fruits of my labor and create space for joy and fulfillment. This act of planning has been a source of quiet strength, showing me that even in the shadow of loss, there is room to dream and grow.
The emptiness left by my mother and grandmother is profound, but it hasn’t taken away my vision for the future. In fact, it’s made me more determined to honor their memory by continuing to plan, to work, and to prepare. I know what I want my later years to look like, and I’m actively shaping that reality. Grief may have pulled me back, but my focus remains forward.
The future is not just a destination; it is a canvas on which I continue to paint, shaped by loss, guided by purpose, and anchored in resilience.
As I navigate the weight of grief and gratitude, I find myself embracing the interconnectedness of the past, present, and future. Each moment informs the next, carrying lessons, love, and the strength to move forward. Planning for what’s ahead doesn’t mean forgetting what has been—it means honoring it by creating a life that reflects the depth of my journey and the dreams yet to be realized.
Gratitude and Insight
Through all of this—grieving the past, reflecting on the present, and planning for the future—I have discovered a depth of insight I hadn’t known before. I’ve learned to have faith in myself, to trust in my ability to forge a path forward, even when that path felt uncertain or overwhelming. But I’ve also come to understand that this faith in myself is not solitary; it is rooted in something greater. It is anchored in my faith in the Lord, whose grace and favor remind me that even in my hardest moments, all things are possible.
I am deeply grateful for the ability to reflect on where I’ve been, to embrace where I am, and to prepare for where I’m going. There is a quiet beauty in learning to exist in three places at once—each offering its own gifts. The past holds lessons that shape me, the present offers gratitude for the progress I’ve made, and the future extends hope for what’s yet to come. Through it all, I’ve come to see that navigating these places requires trust—trust in the work I’ve done, trust in my faith, and trust in the unfolding of a journey I am still discovering.
Thank you for reading and visiting the blog—I’m grateful to share this space with you. The accompanying design by Vibe Graphix adds a thoughtful touch to this message. Take what resonates, let go of what weighs you down, and embrace your journey toward clarity and freedom. 💛
