Bella Imperia: The things I don’t say

The time is coming near again.

That season when the heart begins to ache before the mind has even caught up. The air feels heavier, memories arrive uninvited, and tears slip down my face before I can stop them. Grief has a way of remembering dates even when we try not to.

This time of year, you are everywhere.

You are in the quiet moments. In the sound of laughter that reminds us of yours. In the playful teasing we still hear so clearly. In the wisdom you gave so freely, the guidance that still echoes in our minds when we need it most. Your presence may be gone from this earth, but traces of you remain in all of us.

You are missed more than words could ever truly say.
Or maybe somehow, you already know.

This time of year, we do not only mourn you—we celebrate you. We celebrate your life, your love, your humor, and the memories that time can never take from us. We tell stories, we laugh through tears, and we hold tightly to the moments we were lucky enough to share with you.

And then come the questions from the little ones, still too young to understand the weight of forever. They ask when they can see you again. They ask why heaven is so far away. They wonder why we cannot simply get in the car and drive there.

So we explain as gently as we can that death is final, but love is not. That even when someone is gone, they do not disappear from the hearts of those who love them. That we can still speak your name, tell your stories, laugh at your jokes, and carry you with us every single day. That while you may not answer the way we wish you could, love has a language beyond words—and in that way, you are always listening.

We miss you so much.
We will always miss you.

This time of year brings mourning, yes—but also gratitude for a life well lived, even if it was ended far too soon. There is anger in that truth. There is deep unfairness in it. There is the aching knowledge that we still need you here, still wish for one more conversation, one more laugh, one more ordinary day with you.

There may be peace in knowing your pain has ended. But peace does not erase sorrow. It does not dry the tears. It does not fill the empty chair or quiet the longing.

So the tears still come.
And perhaps they always will.

Because grief is love with nowhere to go, and love like yours does not fade with time.

-Bella Imperia