Perspective

If losing my mom too soon taught me nothing else, it’s taught me perspective.

That person who cut me off in traffic - doesn’t matter.

That project that didn’t go perfectly at work - doesn’t matter.

That glass I accidentally broke while emptying the dishwasher - doesn’t matter.

All those little things that used to frustrate or disappoint me don’t carry the same weight anymore. When you lose someone who meant everything to you, it’s like the lens you see the world through shifts. The petty stuff, the things I used to dwell on, they just don’t seem to deserve the same energy.

Grief has a way of sharpening your focus, whether you want it to or not. It’s not that I don’t still have bad days, or that I don’t get annoyed with things. I do. But deep down, I feel this constant reminder of what really matters, and it’s not the petty stuff.

If my mom’s passing has given me any gift, it’s this: the knowledge that life is about connection and the moments we share with the people we love. All the rest - the stress and little annoyances - they just don’t stick in the same way.

When you’ve faced loss, the little things start to feel exactly like that: little. And the big things, the ones that actually matter, really matter. So if I could go back and tell my past self anything, it would be this: don’t sweat the small stuff. Hug the people you love a little tighter, let go of the things that don’t bring you joy, and remember that life is too short to get tangled up in the things that, in the end, really don’t matter.

 

 

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