THE HOME THAT CHANGED COMPLETELY

When someone like my husband passes away, many hearts break. Hearts all over the world — his family, friends, colleagues, teammates. I feel for all of them, truly. I know how deep that wound is, because I carry it too.

He was joy. Energy. Light.

He was the kind of person who made every room brighter just by walking into it. Smart, kind, funny, and absolutely gorgeous — completely irresistible. I know I wasn’t the only one in love with him. His friends adored him. His family loved him. His colleagues respected him. Our kids worshipped him. He made people’s lives better simply by being in them.

If you were lucky enough to have met him, you know I’m not exaggerating — you know I’m talking facts.

But when he left, only one home was completely destroyed. Ours. My home.

Because while others went back to their homes — to their same partner, kids, routines, and pets — my children and I returned to an empty apartment. We walked in carrying his ashes and our broken hearts, facing a reality that no longer made sense. The silence was different. The air was different. Everything was different.

Just three months after the worst day of our lives, we got on another plane — this time to Canada. A country we had never lived in. A place that was supposed to be home because he was born there, but where he was no longer with us to guide the way.

We started from zero.

A new house. A new bed. A new school. A new weather.

Even the snow felt symbolic — cold, heavy, quiet.

The coldness wasn’t only in the weather; it was also in the distance some people kept.

Three children had lost their dad.

A wife had lost her husband — while still in postpartum.

Grief. Postpartum. Immigration.

Each of those can break a person.

I lived all three at once.

But we’ve kept going. Step by step, we’ve built something new from the ruins. We’ve found warmth in unexpected places. We’ve found our people, our community, and little by little, we’ve learned how to live again.

Our home changed completely.

Forever.

So if someone close to you loses a loved one and you want to help but don’t know how — be there for their home.

For the people whose lives were permanently rearranged.

For the ones who didn’t just lose someone — they lost their entire world as they knew it.

Because grief hits everyone, yes. But it hits hardest where that person lived, loved, laughed — and left behind an empty chair.

Be there for the home that changed completely.