Memory Stones of Love

14/06/2026

Grief is not about 'moving on.'

Sometimes it's about finding meaningful ways to stay connected to the past, while continuing forward.

Learn more about grief at cruse.org.uk

14/06/2026

Some people leave this world quietly…
but the love they gave keeps echoing in everything we do.

A song reminds us of them.
A place feels empty without them.
And sometimes, in the middle of an ordinary day,
we miss them all over again like it just happened.

Grief is strange like that.
It doesn’t always scream.
Sometimes it just sits softly in the heart… forever.

From: Missing Loved Ones

07/06/2026

To everyone who’s purchased Still Grieving, tagged me in your photos, and shared your ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ reviews, your support reminds me that these stories matter and continue to resonate.

If you haven’t yet grabbed a copy, it’s not too late.

Help me show the world that we’re and our still matters.

📚 Still Grieving; How the Pandemic Changed the Way We Mourn is now available on Amazon.

07/06/2026

31/05/2026

I wrote Still Grieving because the pandemic changed how we mourn and too many stories were never told.

This book is my attempt to honor the families who were silenced, minimized, or forgotten.

It took over five years to publish this book not just because it was difficult to write, but because so many publishers told me the topic wasn’t “relevant.”

More than 1.1 million lives lost in the U.S. alone, and still, people think COVID grief is unrelatable.

That’s exactly why I wrote Still Grieving, because these stories deserve to be seen, heard, and honored.

Order a copy today. Help me prove that pandemic grief is not “irrelevant,” and that our stories deserve to be seen, heard, and remembered.

31/05/2026

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡: 𝐀𝐧 𝐈𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 💚
In Irish folklore, the robin is not just a garden bird. It is deeply connected to death, the soul, and the unseen world.

There is a long held belief that when a robin appears after someone has passed, it may be a loved one returning, watching over family, or offering quiet comfort. This is why robins were always protected and never harmed.

Older traditions say a robin lingering near a house, window, or doorway could be a message from the other side. Not something to fear, but a reminder that the boundary between life and death is thin.

Despite these associations, the robin is seen as gentle and protective, not a bad omen. Its red breast symbolises blood, sacrifice, and rebirth, linking it to both life and loss.

So when a robin stays close and seems to watch you, many still say quietly:
Someone is watching over you. 🕊️

From: The Irish Buzz

29/05/2026

A huge congratulations to our friend Rima on the publication of her new book, Still Grieving. I’m sure it will be filled with heartfelt stories of loss and grief that so many of us will relate to deeply.

I’ve just purchased my copy and I’m really looking forward to reading it. As well as being available in the US, it can also be purchased through Amazon in the UK and Ireland.

It’s official. Still Grieving is now live on Amazon.

This book was written for anyone who has ever felt alone in their grief, especially in the years when so much loss went unseen.

If my work has ever supported you, or if you know someone who is grieving, I’d be honored if you’d order a copy today or share it with someone who may need it.

Thank you for being part of this moment with me. This community is the reason this book exists.

Order today 🔗 : https://a.co/d/0hhe7dlC

24/05/2026

Grief isn’t poetic. It’s brutal.

It tears at you in silence, in the middle of the night when the world’s asleep and you can still hear their voice echoing in your head.

It’s not just sadness — it’s rage, emptiness, guilt, confusion. It’s love with nowhere to go.
It’s the sound of laughter that hurts now. It’s the familiar scent that makes your chest tighten.
It’s walking through life half-alive, pretending to function while a part of you is buried with them.

Some days you convince yourself you’re healing. Other days, it feels like the first day all over again — raw, screaming, unbearable.
Grief changes you. It breaks you open in ways that can never be mended the same.

You start to understand pain in colors — shades of black, blue, and the kind of gray that never turns to light.

It’s love’s shadow — endless, haunting, real.
And you carry it, every damn day, because you have no choice.

From; Amanda Kay