2026 has been a brutiful year. Early on, I received the heartbreaking call that my husband, Ryan, was being admitted to the hospital. I wasn’t given the complete picture, and I didn’t understand it until I crossed the seas and landed in a whole new country.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve said that the death of my spouse has been the greatest eye-opener. I am no longer the same person I was before this. It has shown me how fragile life is, and how meaningless almost all the things we chase after in life truly are. Yet there is also gratitude for love found in unexpected places—not least among strangers. It also teaches you to be grateful for the little things in life, which are often the only things that truly matter.
So I wake up with a prayer of gratitude. For another day… another shot at life. There’s no rush, and no fear whatsoever left anymore. There’s no one to impress except the Creator Himself, and that alone has been the greatest radical shift in my life this year. Things that used to sway me no longer hold my interest. The same goes for people.
2026 has been my most challenging year to date. Even though I’m taking it one day at a time and giving myself a lot of grace, there’s still a lot on my plate that needs my focus and attention. When I look back at the year so far, it’s the little things that make me stop in my tracks and remind me that I haven’t taken the time to celebrate them.
Here’s my list of little things that I celebrate publicly today:
- Going from being utterly scared to even smile after my husband’s death to a point where I can genuinely smile without fear.
- Going from being the person who saw the good in all people to seeing people for exactly who they are.
- Going from believing “Home is where the heart is” to “Home lies in you.”
- Blocking all negative thoughts, intentions, actions, and people without a doubt.
- Keeping it real and standing in my truth and power.
- Making the first summer vacation trip possible with my daughter—our new normal—at the eleventh hour, and continuing the family tradition of making memories.
- Not fitting into the stereotype of how a widow should or should not be.
- Going ahead with my ventures as planned, albeit in first gear rather than full speed.
- Not waiting for others’ permission or approval to live my life.
- Staying away from gossip and not heeding it.
- Not letting others’ perceptions of how and when I should grieve affect my natural healing process.
- Facing and embracing the storm instead of escaping from it.
- Being willing to be a student of life and to learn its skills from scratch.
- Choosing to be better, not bitter, after a personal tragedy.
- Not being ashamed of crying anywhere and everywhere.
- For choosing to move forward and honouring my deceased husband by vowing to be the best version of myself.
The loss of a beloved, particularly one’s spouse, can be the most heartbreaking thing that can happen to anyone. As a person who met Ryan – though only once and too briefly – I know how gentle the person was and how much his absence can mean to you.
This is one thing I would have never imagined in my worst nightmares, Tomichan. It is heartbreaking and something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. I’m so glad you could meet Ryan even briefly. In all objectivity and fairness, I say he was a wonderful man. There’s gratitude for having crossed paths with him, married him, and lived so intimately with him. And I hope to meet you again for a longer time when I’m in Kerala next, or whenever we happen to be in the same place.