My mom died suddenly. On Sunday she was laughing. By Monday morning she was gone.
I was thirty-six, raising a young family, and somehow the world expected life to continue as though nothing essential had changed. The text messages stopped. I kept bumping into ordinary moments that used to belong to us.
As the years passed, people stopped saying her name. I never did. I still talked to her while driving. While painting a room. While planting flowers. While making decisions I wished I could still ask her about. Sometimes her presence felt so close that I stopped telling anyone about it.
I wasn’t looking for answers. I was looking for a place where my love could still exist. So I began making one.
Velvet Grief is part illustrated field guide, part journal, part ritual companion, and part secret garden. It was designed to give grief somewhere to go. These pages invite you to slow down, create, remember, listen, write, wander, and simply feel. Through music, art, science, ritual, philosophy, and creativity, they gently peel back the layers grief asks us to wear.
Every reader will walk a different path. The playlists, rituals, artwork, reflections, and quiet corners become unique to you and the person you love.
This is not a book to finish. It is a place to return to.
If you’ve ever felt like everyone else moved on while you were still carrying someone with you, I hope you find a place to rest here.
With you always, Erica