The Day My Heart Never Forgets

As today approached, my heart had already begun preparing for the weight of it.

Today marks another year without her, and somehow my heart feels it before I ever notice the date.

These past few days have carried a familiar tenderness. That quiet ache that rises when love and loss meet again.

And now, as another anniversary approaches, I feel both the missing and the celebrating rising within me. Because yes, the ache is real. But so is the gratitude.

So is the honor of having been loved by someone like her.

It happens every year. The grief creeps in gently, quietly, as if tapping me on the shoulder to say, I’m still here too.

I keep thinking about the simple moments that meant everything. The kind of moments that never announced themselves as important until they were gone. Sitting on the couch with her, listening to her tell stories about her early life — the city, the adventures, the little things that shaped her, or just existing side by side with no real agenda. Those were the days where time slipped by without us even noticing…the kind of ease you only feel when you’re with someone who feels like home.

And her hugs… those are something I’ll always crave. The kind that felt like they stitched you back together.

The thing is, I always knew those moments would become the ones I longed for. Even as they were happening, I remember thinking, Slow down. Be here. You’re going to wish for this someday. So I made myself present. I soaked in her laugh, the warmth she carried, the comfort of knowing she loved me with her whole heart.

There was never a moment I would have rather been anywhere else.

And honestly, right now, I feel the same.

I’d trade anything just to have one of those moments with her again.

And now, as another anniversary approaches, I feel not just the weight of missing her… but the pull to celebrate her.

To honor the way she lived, the way she loved, the way she shaped so much of who I am.

How her influence reaches into every corner of my life. The way I show up for people. The way I create. The way I try to love loudly and meaningfully. In my courage to live big, just like she wanted for me.

Her love taught me how to care deeply.

Her strength taught me how to stand firmly in who I am.

And her spirit — that take-no-BS attitude wrapped in genuine grace — taught me how to move through life boldly, yet beautifully.

Everything I’m building, everything I’m becoming, holds bits and pieces of her.

I hope I’m doing her legacy good.

I hope she would be proud of the way I have chosen to carry her forward.

There have been so many moments she should have witnessed.

So many chapters where I’ve paused and thought, I wish she were here.

And although she isn’t physically present, I still feel her woven into the quiet spaces — in my choices, my strength, my heart.

I feel the absence in both the joys and the quiet nights.

Today will be a day of missing her deeply, as I always do.

But it will also be a day of celebrating her deeply — her stories, her fire, her grace, her love, her life.

The parts of her that still live in my heart n soul.

From my heart to yours,

Mercedes

Founder | @ilyheartnsoul

P.S.

Time softens the edges of grief, but it sharpens the gratitude too. Somehow, both grow together.