10.4.25 | 💛 How I'm honoring my grandmotherAn invitation to feel everything, soft pajamas for fall, the only books on motherhood I recommend, and our next virtual event
Welcome to The Weekend Edit, a Saturday morning ritual from The Good Trade. Happy Saturday, When AmyAnn asked me to write this weekend’s edition, I planned to reflect on returning from maternity leave and balancing my new role as a mother with all the former versions of myself: writer, podcast host, and content strategist here at The Good Trade. But while drafting, I received the news that my grandmother — the matriarch of our family who raised three children, ten grandchildren, and seven great-grandchildren — had passed away. Though we had known she was nearing the end, the permanence of her absence still landed with a sharp ache. And so it feels only right to bring these feelings to the page.
I’m no stranger to grief. My husband and I spent years navigating infertility and loss, a sorrow that softened with the birth of our daughter. But with my grandmother, grief feels different — reshaping me, asking only to be acknowledged, not resolved. Her absence leaves a space that can’t be filled, only tended to through stories and quiet, daily remembrance. Facing this kind of loss is disorienting. Love and impermanence feel intertwined, and that tension between holding on and letting go feels like the essence of being human. How do we keep living with grief by our side? How do I play tummy time with my daughter, sip coffee on the patio, or shop for a fall jacket knowing part of my heart is elsewhere? Perhaps the answer is simply to keep going while letting it have its place. It’s brave work, allowing ourselves to feel the weight of loss while continuing to live. But when we do, grief softens us. It reminds us what matters and becomes a gentle nudge toward living intentionally, with presence and love as our guides. I will miss my grandmother, of course. But I carry her in the ways she shaped life: her love of artichokes and red wine and Montana and the perfect shade of lipstick. In our final conversation, she asked about my daughter, how she was eating (what is it with grandmas always wanting to plump babies up!?), and who she got her button nose from. Those small, everyday details feel like love made visible.
I will leave you with a poem that I’ve held closely over the last few days: In Blackwater Woods by Mary Oliver (Excerpt) To live in this world 💛 Today’s Weekend Edit Includes: Xx, P.S. Our fall sale is live right now — save 15% on your annual subscription to The Weekend Edit... Subscribe to The Good Trade to unlock the rest.Become a paying subscriber of The Good Trade to get access to this post and other subscriber-only content. A subscription gets you:
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subota, 4. listopada 2025.
10.4.25 | 💛 How I'm honoring my grandmother
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