Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time in my kitchen again.

Not because everything is magically okay now.

Not because life suddenly got easier.

But because somewhere between the meal prep containers, the music playing in the background, and Sir Kit Kat supervising my every move like a tiny fluffy manager with anxiety issues… something started shifting in me.

Just a little.

Not enough to say I feel like myself again.

But enough to notice the heavy feeling isn’t sitting quite as deep some days.

And honestly? I’ll take that win.

The last couple of years changed me completely.

Losing my sweet girl Nicole changed me right down to my core.

People talk about grief like it’s something you eventually “move on” from, but grief doesn’t really work like that. It has its own plans. Some days it sits quietly in the background. Other days it shows up like a gut punch out of nowhere.

And then there are the strange moments.

Like waking up in the morning and for one tiny split second forgetting she’s gone… before reality rushes back in all over again.

That part never gets easier.

The quiet moments are the hardest sometimes.

Hearing a song.
Thinking “Nicole would’ve loved this.”
Wanting to send a message you can’t send anymore.

Grief is exhausting in ways people don’t always see.

That’s part of why the kitchen has become such a safe place for me lately.

It’s filled with memories.

I can still picture all the kids growing up in the kitchen while I taught them how to cook. Scrambled eggs were always the first thing they learned 😂

And Nicole…

She loved baking and cooking too.

Well… mostly eating if we’re being honest 😅

I still laugh thinking about how tiny she was and yet somehow ate like a full grown construction worker.

One of my favorite memories was an Indian Taco day at our old place. We spent the day cooking, chopping, laughing, making a mess, waiting for everyone to come home hungry. By the end of the night everyone was full, happy, and sitting around talking.

Those are the moments I miss the most.

And then there was my secret weapon for getting Nicole out of bed in the mornings.

Homemade bread.

That girl could sleep through almost anything… unless she smelled fresh bread baking.

The second that smell hit the house, she’d come flying down the stairs half awake looking for a warm slice with butter 😂

Funny how memories can break your heart and warm it at the exact same time.

That’s what cooking feels like for me lately.

It hurts.
It heals.
Sometimes both at once.

But cooking also gives me something else right now:
purpose.

Routine.

Creativity.

A reason to get up and make something.

When I’m cooking, listening to Jelly Roll, dancing around the kitchen until my back reminds me I’m not 22 anymore, my brain gets quieter for awhile.

And quiet feels nice these days.

Even organizing my freezer became bigger than just food.

Before, opening it felt overwhelming. Chaos everywhere. No plan. No idea what to make.

Now I open it and see meals ready to go. Soups stacked neatly. Ingredients prepped. Future meals planned out.

And maybe that sounds silly to some people…

but to me, it feels like caring for myself again.

Like maybe I’m finally trying to make life a little easier instead of harder.

It feels like survival.
But it also feels a little like healing too.

And I think that’s what I’m learning lately.

Healing doesn’t always arrive in big dramatic movie moments.

Sometimes it shows up quietly.

In music playing while you cook.
In finally organizing a freezer.
In laughing at yourself while talking out loud to the cat.
In meal prep containers lined up on the counter.
In trying again even when you still feel heavy.

I’m not fully “me” again yet.

Not even close some days.

But I think I’m slowly finding little pieces of myself again.

One recipe.
One memory.
One meal.
One kitchen dance party at a time 💜

And if you’re struggling right now too, please know this:

You don’t have to have everything figured out to keep going.

Sometimes “doing your best” simply means trying again today.

And honestly?

That’s enough.

---

💛

Share it in the comments and let’s keep this conversation going.

And if this post spoke to you, feel free to share it with someone who might need this reminder too.

Thank you for being here, for reading, and for being part of this space.

We’re figuring this out one day at a time… together.

— Shelly 💛

#LiveBetterTodayShellyRand