Choosing to Live Anyway
Memorial Day, Grief, and the Strength to Keep Showing Up
Memorial Day means something different for everyone.
For some, it is cookouts, family gatherings, and a long weekend. For others, it is a painful reminder of the people they loved deeply and lost along the way. For many of us, grief does not only exist for the people we have buried—sometimes we grieve people who are still living too: relationships that have changed, connections that have broken, and versions of life we thought we would have.
Grief has a way of showing up whether people acknowledge it or not.
As someone who has experienced significant loss throughout my life, I understand firsthand how grief can become something you carry daily. Losing my firstborn son, Braylen Makai Pratcher, after carrying him full term and loving him for the 28 days we were blessed to have with him, was one of the deepest pains I have ever known. Losing my grandmother was another heartbreak that left a lasting imprint on my heart. Over time, there have been other losses too—people I loved deeply, relationships that changed, and versions of life I once imagined differently.
Memorial Day may place loss at the forefront for many people, but the truth is that, for some of us, grief is not seasonal. It is a constant choice to continue showing up beyond the pain, and that choice is not always easy.
There were moments in my life when the weight of loss, trauma, heartbreak, and disappointment felt unbearable—moments when being “strong” felt exhausting. My healing journey has taught me this: suppressing pain does not heal it.
Feel it all.
Cry if you need to cry.
Scream if you need to scream.
Sit with the truth of what hurts.
Stop trying to carry every burden in silence just to protect the image of being the “strong one.” Strength is not pretending you are okay when you are falling apart inside. Real strength is acknowledging the pain honestly and still choosing to move forward anyway.
While I encourage people to feel their emotions fully, I also encourage this: do not unpack and live there permanently. Acknowledge the moment without allowing it to consume your entire life.
That has been one of the hardest but most necessary lessons for me. Because while I deeply miss the people I have lost—especially my son and grandmother—I also realize there was purpose connected to that pain. Loss changed me, shaped me, softened me, and ultimately gave me a deeper understanding of compassion, healing, and intentional living.
So this Memorial Day, I honor not only those we have lost, but also the people silently carrying grief while still trying to function, parent, work, smile, and survive.
If that is you, I want you to know this:
It is okay to not be okay.
It is okay to feel deeply.
And it is okay to choose life anyway.
That choice matters.
Every single day, I wake up and intentionally celebrate my decision to continue living despite how much it hurt. That does not erase the pain. It simply means the pain no longer gets to decide whether I keep going.
Healing is not forgetting or avoiding—it is learning how to carry the weight without allowing it to destroy you.
Just a reminder: some people celebrate Memorial Day once a year. Other people carry memorials in their hearts every single day.
— Shae Pratcher
