Since grief slapped us in the face six years ago with the loss of our son Levi, the phases have gone back and forth. It wasn’t a clean process. It wasn’t something we “moved through” like a checklist. Grief changes over time. Instead, grief became this unpredictable presence—quite some days, overwhelming on others. And still, that’s okay.

At first, the loss was sharp and loud. Every corner of our world echoed with his absence. Time stood still. We were in survival mode—figuring out how to breathe in a world that no longer included Levi’s smile, his laughter, his life. But over the years, something shifted. The grief didn’t disappear; it just changed shape. Grief changes over time. 

Some days it feels manageable, like a weight we’ve learned to carry. Other days, it hits just as hard as it did in the beginning—usually without warning. A smell. A season. A photo. A memory out of nowhere. And in those moments, the years don’t matter. It feels fresh all over again.

The truth is: grief doesn’t have an expiration date. There’s no timeline. No final stage. It weaves itself into life, evolving with us. It’s not about getting over Levi. It’s about learning to live with his absence while still holding on to his presence in every breath, every heartbeat.

We’re allowed to feel okay. We’re allowed to fall apart. We’re allowed to heal in spirals, not straight lines.

Grief changes over time. So do we. And there’s grace in that.

Here’s a quick 30 second testimonial from another person experiencing grief.