05/06/2026
I cried this morning. And then again this afternoon.
This morning, it was for a c**t. A brand new baby… here for just a moment before it was gone. That’s the side of ranching people don’t see.
The quiet heartbreak.
The early mornings that don’t go the way you prayed they would.
The reality that life and loss sit right next to each other out here.
You learn to keep going. But it still hurts.
And then this afternoon… I was just walking through Dillard’s. Nothing heavy. Nothing emotional.
Until I passed the pajama section.
And there they were…House coats.
And just like that, it hit me.
I thought about calling my Mimi. Telling her I found one she’d love. It looked just like the ones she used to wear.
And before I could even catch it… the lump in my throat and inevitably….Tears. Right there in the middle of the store.
Because grief doesn’t ask permission. It doesn’t check the calendar. It just shows up. In the middle of ordinary moments. In the things you didn’t expect to carry weight.
And it’s strange how it works… How it can feel quiet one minute and overwhelming the next. Like a wave you didn’t see coming. It slices through everything.
But I’ve also thought about this…How kind the Lord is in it. Because honestly, if we felt all of it at once…Every ounce of loss, every memory, every ache…
I don’t think we could bear it.
So instead, it comes in pieces. In moments. In waves we can somehow survive.Not because they’re easy…
But because He’s gentle.
Gentle with our hearts.
Gentle with the timing.
So today looked like tears.
For a c**t.
For my Mimi.
For the kind of love that doesn’t just go away.
And I guess that’s the thing about grief…It hurts.
But it also reminds you how deeply you loved.
CASEY GRAHAM RUSSELL
