Disclaimer:This story reflects one perspective and is shared to spark discussion and connection. While inspired by real situations, some details may have been altered for privacy and clarity.
"I think I'm here to restore karma in the world. I try to do right by folks. It’s like... if I can balance the scales, maybe my girl’s somewhere peaceful."
Today, I met Jacklyn while walking my dog. She was sitting on a bench under the shade of an old cottonwood tree.
My dog trotted up to her, tail wagging, and she laughed, reaching down to scratch behind his ears.
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| Photo credits: Thomas Elliott |
"Well, hello there, handsome," she said, her voice warm but weathered. "I used to have a dog like this, years ago. Best company I ever had."
I smiled. "He seems to think you’re pretty great too. Mind if we sit for a minute?"
"Suit yourself," she said, patting the empty spot beside her. "I was just enjoying the sun. Gotta soak it up while you can."
We fell into easy conversation. I asked if she was from around here, and that's when her story began to unfold.
"Moved to Santa Fe after my daughter was killed in Denver," she said quietly, eyes fixed on the horizon. "That was back in '97. She was just 25. Shot to death, can you believe that? For nothing. Nothing at all."
There was a pause, heavy with the weight of years. I didn’t know what to say, so I just listened.
Jacklyn rolled up her pant leg, revealing a faded tattoo. It was her daughter’s face, young and smiling, inked into her skin like a promise never to forget.
"Got this tattoo the year after she died," she said, running her fingers over it. "Hurt like hell, but not as much as losing her.
And this—" she reached into her canvas bag and pulled out a small, well-loved stuffed bunny, its fur worn thin in places—"was her favorite. Carried it around even when she was grown. Twenty-five years old, still holding on to this silly thing. I guess now it’s my turn to hold on."
My dog rested his head on her knee, as if he somehow understood the moment.
"Do you have family here?" I asked gently.
Jacklyn shook her head. "Nope. Haven’t had a significant other in 30 years. Never wanted to try again after my heart got broke the first time.
But you know what?" She leaned in, eyes bright despite the sadness. "I think I'm here to restore karma in the world. I try to do right by folks. Hold doors open, say kind words, feed the birds. Little things. It’s like... if I can balance the scales, maybe my girl’s somewhere peaceful."
The conversation shifted after that, lighter somehow, like sharing her truth had eased the weight she carried.
When I stood up to leave, she smiled and added, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and don’t bother asking about vaccines. I’m not getting any. God will take me when He’s ready, and that’s that."
We laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was so perfectly Jacklyn—tough, tender, and fiercely sure of her place in the world.
Key takeaway:
Grief doesn’t end you—it just teaches you how to love differently. This woman is a living example of that.
3 Tips to Cope with Grief:
- Grief doesn’t have a timeline. You don’t have to ‘get over it.’ So stop asking yourself ‘what?’ Or ‘why?’ and start giving yourself some time to process it all.
- Ask yourself, ‘When was the last time grief was no longer accepted?’ People expect all the time that you must move on. But grief has no years, or months, or days. You must allow it the way it wishes to come, even in waves or sudden unexpected sadness.
- It is normal to react the way to feel like when processing grief. Cry if you feel like; mourn if you feel like; miss your loved one if you feel like and for as long as you want to. You don’t have to set a start and end timer to your feelings.
If you feel like writing it down can help you process your thoughts and feelings, you might try out these resources: My bad-day support kit; When overthinking won’t stop; or if you’re questioning what matters most.
Share in comments if you have managed through grief, without forcing yourself to ‘move on.’ You can also drop an email: hello@nostalgicgrandma.com
Thanks for reading. Find more inspirational and relatable stories—only at NostalgicGrandma. These stories exist to make you feel seen and remind you that you’re not alone.