IronButterflyHD

  From afar, it looks like something anyone could hold. But once it’s in your hands, you feel the weight of everything inside: memories, regrets, what-ifs, longings, all pressed together, stacked tight. Some layers are sweet, some bitter, some hard to swallow. People think they understand. But they don’t see the layers that give it weight, the ones that make it messy and real. Grief lives in the middle, where it clings, presses, and holds. It’s complicated. It’s heavier than it looks. It is always more than anyone else can see. And yet, somehow,  you carry it. One bite at a time. One day at a time. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses metaphors, and images to reflect the confusion, numbness, and une...

  Over and over again, testing combinations, guessing, hoping. Each attempt feels like it might work. Your fingers hover. You hold your breath. Maybe this time. Sometimes it feels close. The numbers align just right. But the access is gone. What you want most is still there, just beyond reach, on the other side. But remembering does not return it. It only reminds you what cannot be regained. And slowly, quietly, you learn a different kind of persistence: to keep your hand on the door, to keep moving forward, even when it stays locked. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses metaphors, and images to reflect the confusion, numbness, and unexpected pockets of sweetness that grief can bring. Perfect for times w...

  Grief takes you up  and down without warning. One moment you feel almost okay,  catching your breath,  finding a glimpse of light. The next,  you’re pulled down again. The drop feels sudden,  sharp, endless. It’s exhausting,  this constant rise and fall. You never know which  way the turn is taking you. But even in the spinning,  the one constant is love. It’s what keeps the ride going, even when it feels unbearable. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses metaphors, and images to reflect the confusion, numbness, and unexpected pockets of sweetness that grief can bring. Perfect for times when focus is difficult, each metaphor is independent, so the book can be read ...

  Some days, grief is heavy in your hands.  Sour. Sharp. Unshakable.  Its scent lingers,  its tang presses against your tongue  even when you try to ignore it. You cannot dress it up.  You cannot soften it or sweeten it  to make it easier to swallow.  You can only hold it,  let it sting,  let it sit with you. And in letting it be,  you learn something profound:  that grief is tied to love,  and that both deserve to be felt. You honor what you have lost  and what you still carry.  The weight, the sting, the flavor. All of it is part of remembering. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses metaphors, and images to reflect the confusion, numb...

  From the outside, it looks whole. Sweet. Refreshing. Safe. But once you bite in, the seeds show up. Small and bitter,  hidden where you least expect them. You want the sweetness without the pain, but grief doesn’t serve it that way. It never separates the two. So you eat around them. You work through the bitterness to get back to the sweetness. Again and again. The sweetness reminds  you of what was good. The bitterness reminds  you of what mattered. And the love that made it sweet  still is. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses metaphors, and images to reflect the confusion, numbness, and unexpected pockets of sweetness that grief can bring. Perfect for times when focus is difficul...

  Everything is quiet now, long shadows stretching across the sand. The day is ending without asking you. The sandcastle waits to be washed away. But you are still here. Kneeling at the edge of what you built, watching the water creep closer. You know the tide is coming. You know you cannot stop it. And still you stay, smoothing the edges, filling the cracks, buying just a little more time with what remains. Everyone else is ready for the next season. You are not. You are still here at the waterline, hands in the sand, because what was built here deserves more than a quiet goodbye. ------------------------------------------ This metaphor will be featured in an upcoming book.    Find my first book,  Grief is Like a Donut,  on Amazon: Grief is Like a Donut   offers gentle support for those navigating the heartache of loss. Beautifully illustrated and poetic, this book uses metaphors, and images to reflect the confusion, numbness, and unexpected pockets of swe...