Some burdens don’t look heavy. Mine had soft ears, beautiful warm eyes, and the most loyal heart I’ve ever known.

Bryan wasn’t just my dog—he was my nervous system’s favorite regulator. He was routine, joy, movement, purpose, and safety. And when he left, everything inside me got noisier. My sleep. My digestion. My panic. My inflammation.

Grief does that.

You don’t “move on” from it. You move with it. Like Frodo, you wake up and still carry the ring. Only now, no one else can see it. They just see you tired, puffy, moody, “off.”

But you know. Grief is chronic inflammation with a storyline.

And healing?
It’s not about fixing that grief. It’s about learning how to walk anyway.

So I walk. And Bryan still walks with me. You’ll see him at the bottom of every post. Because that’s where he always was—by my side.

Next chapter: Sam. The best support system your gut never knew it needed.

Some light never leaves us.