NeuroDivine

Today was a day of quiet courage.
A family funeral in Lisburn. No Liam. No Otto. No soft fur to hold, no silent comfort tucked in a pocket. Just me.

It was challenging—more than I expected.
Grief layered with absence, the ache of goodbye without my usual companions in care.
But I managed. I breathed. I stood. I honoured.
And somehow, grace found me anyway.

Not every day comes with comfort.
But even in the absence, there was presence:
In the hymns sung, the hands held, the stories shared.
In the memory of love that outlasts the moment.

Tonight, I name it:
A day without a bear.
And still, a day held in care.