Grief is Not Linear, Nor is Our Human Experience – Cultivating Grace Through Grief

Christmas 1983

My Aunt and I before Christmas Eve Candlelight Service

This week’s Mindful Musing is raw and real. Please know that if you’re in the dark hour of grief, I invite you to listen to your own wisdom. If you feel the need to set this aside for now and return to it later, please honor that. Or, if you feel called to continue reading, take what feels true for you and gently leave the rest behind. Above all, take your time, and above all else, listen to your own needs and desires.

Yes, it’s a joyful, magical, spiritual time of year for many—but for others (myself included), there is pain, sadness, loss, and grief. Exactly a year ago yesterday, my aunt and godmother, Sharon Gonom, passed away from colon cancer and a host of mental health struggles that had pulled her away from the peace and joy I believe were meant to be hers.

I’ve never publicly shared her passing, nor the depths of my grief, but this year it felt safe, warm, and almost as if I was meant to share this message with anyone who might need to feel seen, heard, and not alone in their grief.

I thought I had moved through it. But then, it hit me out of nowhere, as if I was starting over—like it had just happened. The intensity of it brought me to my knees. Once I allowed myself to feel, I became more aware of the grief, but also of the immense love and gratitude I have for having been her niece and goddaughter.

Sharon unknowingly taught me how to let my brilliance shine through—how to be bold, fearless, and to believe in something bigger than myself. I’m forever grateful for the chance to be her family. I now feel her presence every day; I sense her guiding me, protecting me.

Grief is not linear. It’s a process to be honored, embraced, and felt deeply—just like every other part of our human experience. It’s yours to nurture. Allow it to unfold at its own pace. If you’re struggling, don’t hesitate to ask for help. You are not alone.

Grief can take many forms. Sometimes, it’s not just about the loss of someone we love, but also the grief of letting go of an old way of being, a season of life.

Whether you’re grieving a recent loss or something from the past, I want you to know: you’re not alone. You are seen. You are heard. Your grief is valid.

This last year has taught me to trust the waves of grief, and to see them as part of a larger process of growth. I’ve gained a deeper awareness and understanding of my faith, spirituality, angels and love. I spent many Christmases with my aunt, and she taught me how to live unapologetically, how to be confident, and to embrace my own unique style. While this disease came in swiftly and took her from us, it also gave me the opportunity to know her in a new way—on a deeper, soul level. She was one of my first coaching clients.

In honor of her, I’ve devoted my coaching work to Sharon’s memory. She taught me so much, and I feel her energy guiding my work every day.

A month before she passed, I wrote about grief, and I want to share it with you now:

Grief is a gift. It’s an opportunity to express gratitude, to rest and release. It’s a time to gain insight, to feel deeply, and to expand into a new season of life. In the midst of my grief, I have found freedom, faith, and love. I know there are no rules or right ways to grieve. There is only love, acceptance, awareness, and faith that my growth—being present in this grief—will open new doors and light new paths ahead. I am forever grateful for my grief, for the grace I’ve given myself in it. I will not bypass it, but stand firmly grounded in the knowledge that my aunt now has everlasting peace and joy. A piece of her lives in me, now and forever.

As I share this, my hope is that, no matter what grief you are carrying, you feel a sense of peace and knowing that you are not walking this path alone.

Wishing you peace, joy, hope, and grace this holiday season and throughout 2025.

With love and light,
Angie