Love after Loss

This is from the Grief Heart Blog but I thought I'd share it here too.

There’s a story people often tell about Franz Kafka. It didn’t come from one of his famous books, but from something he did in real life. He came across a little girl who was heartbroken because she had lost her doll.

Most adults might have tried to cheer her up or tell her she’d be fine, but Kafka chose something different. He started writing letters to her as if they were from the doll itself. In the letters, the doll explained that she hadn’t really been lost but had gone traveling and was off having adventures, and wanted to share them.

The doll never came back, of course. But those letters gave the girl a way to keep loving what she had lost. They turned something unbearable into something she could still hold on to, even if it looked different than before.

I think about that story a lot these days. Jess may be gone, but her love keeps circling back. It comes in the stories people share, in a thrifted shirt remade with care, in the flutter of moth wings at dusk. Those moments feel like little notes from her, reminding me she’s still here somehow.

One of the most important "letters" has taken the shape of the Grief Heart. I designed it after Jess died, a heart with a missing piece and cracks, yet still blooming with life. When I wear it, I’m saying, I’m remembering someone today, AND it’s okay to say their name.

For me, the Grief Heart is what those doll letters were for that little girl. It doesn’t undo the loss, but it keeps love alive in a new form. And I believe it can do that for others as well. I imagine a future where people everywhere wear the Grief Heart. A pin, a sticker, a tote bag, or even just an image online can say something simple and powerful: I’m remembering someone I love today, and you can say their name with me.

Grief doesn’t mean love is over. It means love has changed shape.

So my future with Jess isn’t empty. It’s filled with her, through memories, through symbols, through the creatures she loved, and through this movement I’m building in her name. She isn’t here the way she once was, but her love is still right beside me.

Like Kafka, I can’t bring back what was lost. But I can keep writing the letters. And the Grief Heart is one of them. It is an open letter to the world, saying that love endures, even when everything else changes.

If you see the Grief Heart, I hope you’ll join me in wearing it. Let it be your letter too. Say their name. Share your person. Together, we can build a world where grief and love walk openly side by side. 

 *****

This symbol doesn’t try to fix grief or rush it away. It simply says:

I am grieving.

I love someone who isn’t here.

And it helps to talk about them.

The Grief Heart is a quiet invitation. A way to let the world know you’re carrying someone, and that if someone asks, you might just want to share a bit of who they were.

Because in that telling, something beautiful always grows.

Learn more at GriefHeart.org