The “I love you” on her shirt feels like the whisper of a heart trying to reach a hesitant mind.

It’s the purest part of you. The part untouched by shame, timelines, pressure, or performance reminding the rest of you that love isn’t a transaction. It’s a truth.

A pledge.

There’s something sacred about pulling weeds while healing wounds. In this reflection, I share how gardening because my quiet companion through grief. Not because I loved it, but because it taught me how to let go, root deeply and begin again.