Closing the door on 2024

And just like that, it’s almost 2025.

It feels like just yesterday we were celebrating the turn of the millennium, and now, here we are—nearly a quarter of a century later. Time has this uncanny way of slipping by, doesn’t it?

2024, though... it’s been the hardest year of my life. On every front—physically, emotionally, from all fronts I saw myself crumbling. This year brought me face-to-face with the biggest loss I’ve ever known: the loss of my parent.

As I struggled with the loss of my Dad—who was also my mentor and guide—I found myself more vulnerable in every way. With each passing month this calendar year, I have learned and grown through that vulnerability…

• I learned that grief is a massive thing—way bigger than you expect. There’s no timeline for it. Just when you think you’re starting to get a handle on it, it can hit you all over again, like massive waves crashing in.

  I have had tears well up in the most random places—looking at random pictures..no connection to me..watching TV, walking down the street, or standing in a supermarket aisle when something triggers a memory.

  And no, grief doesn’t really get smaller over time. What changes is your ability to handle the emotions. You get better at carrying the weight, but it’s still there. Grief also showed up physically and mentally- through constant ailments, in fatigue, loss of interest...and slow decisions.

  When people say, “you’ll heal” or “stay strong,” those words can feel so small compared to the reality of what you’re dealing with. Grief is so much more than an emotion—it’s a whole experience, and it shows up in ways one just doesn't expect.

• I learned to find moments of joy even amid my grief. It wasn’t something that came easily —it’s something I had to discover over time. At first, it felt almost impossible, like joy and grief couldn’t exist together. But slowly, I realised they’re not opposites. They can coexist, and finding those little sparks of happiness doesn’t diminish the depth of my grief.

  I found joy in small, unexpected places. In the warmth of the sun on my face during my daily walks, in chats with a friend who sat with me when I needed it most, or in the comfort of my favourite music. I found joy in ‘Daily Jay’ on Calm..I also found joy in honouring my Dad- remembering the good times, telling his stories  brought me moments of lightness.

• I learned to be even more fiercely protective of my time and energy and to be thoughtful about who I share it with. My loss showed me what truly matters and who genuinely shows up for you. It made me realise how limited my time is, how precious my energy is—and how important it is to spend it on the people and experiences that bring meaning, comfort, or growth into my life. Being more mindful about my time, isn’t about shutting people out—it’s about creating space for the right people and experiences to come in. It’s about choosing a life that supports my growth, my peace, and my journey forward.

• Finally, I learned acceptance—true acceptance—not only of the loss of a parent but also of other losses that I had been resisting. I learnt to submit to the universe, what was planned for me. As a person of faith and determination, this was one of the hardest lessons for me. I’ve always believed in striving for what I want, but 2024 taught me the importance of surrender—not as a sign of weakness but as an act of trust in something greater than myself.

  Through acceptance, I’ve found a quiet strength—a deepened faith and a greater appreciation for the life I still have, even with its challenges. It’s a reminder that while I can’t change the past, I can choose how I walk into the future.

As I stand stand to close the door on 2024, I am looking at 2025 with a heart full of hope.

Hope- that the new year will bring good energy, good health & wellbeing, good people and good fortune.

Here’s to embracing the new year with open arms and a hopeful heart!