Grief and Work: How Losing My Papa Taught Me to Build a Softer, More Sacred Business

The last thing I wrote for this blog was about walking with my Papa through his lung cancer diagnosis. I wrote about juggling hospital rooms and client calls, about the sacred tension of caring for a parent while trying to care for a business.

On a quiet morning in July, that season of fighting ended. My Papa took his last breath here and his first one in heaven.

And the world just… kept going.

Emails still landed in my inbox. Projects still needed completing. The sun rose, and I was expected to rise with it. But how do you answer a client’s question about a color palette when your entire world has been drained of color?

This is what I’m learning in the aftermath of loss: Grief doesn’t ask for permission to interrupt your work. It just does. And maybe, that’s the most important interruption we’ll ever experience.

The Myth of the “Grief Timeline” (And the Reality of Running a Business)

We’ve been sold a lie that grief is a linear path with stages you check off. Grief is a tidal wave. It hits in the middle of a Zoom call when a client uses a phrase Papa loved. It washes over you in the grocery store when you see his favorite coffee. It leaves you breathless in the car after a swim meet, realizing he’ll never see your son race again.

And your business? It becomes both a sanctuary and a burden.

• A Sanctuary because it gives you a structure to cling to when your emotions are chaos. It reminds you that you are still capable of creating something, even when you feel destroyed.

• A Burden because the performance of “fine” is the heaviest costume you’ll ever wear.

What Papa’s Legacy is Teaching Me About My Work

In my foggiest days, I’ve had to rebuild my relationship with work from the ground up, and Papa’s memory is my guide.

1. Presence Over Productivity: Papa didn’t care about my revenue goals; he cared about my character. I’m learning to measure my days not by crossed-off to-do lists, but by moments of genuine connection—with my family, my clients, and myself. Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is sit quietly and miss someone.

2. Impact is Eternal, Metrics Are Not: I could chase vanity metrics or another viral post. But grief strips away all that is temporary. It forces you to ask: “What will matter when I’m the one in that bed? What legacy does my work leave?” The answer is never “a higher engagement rate.” It’s always about the people you served and the love you put into your work.

3. Grace is the Only Acceptable KPI: I’ve had to extend a grace to myself I never knew I needed. Grace for missed emails. Grace for extended deadlines. Grace for the days when “showing up” just means keeping the website online. And in giving that grace to myself, I’ve learned to offer it more freely to others. We are all fighting battles no one can see.

To Anyone Holding a Heartache and a To-Do List

If you’re reading this with your own quiet grief—whether fresh or an old ache—please know this:

Your worth is not in your output. Your success is not measured by your consistency during a season of loss. It is okay to…

• Set “Grief Boundaries”: Auto-responders are a ministry. “I am dealing with a family matter” is a complete sentence.

• Lead with Vulnerability: Telling a trusted client, “I’ve experienced a loss, so I may be moving a little slower,” invites humanity in, not pity.

• Find the Sacred in the Simple: Brewing a cup of tea can be a prayer. Answering one email can be a victory. There is no small thing anymore.

I’m not who I was in June. Losing Papa has marked me. But I believe with my whole heart that a marked person—a tenderized, heartbroken-open person—can build a business with more depth, more compassion, and more eternal significance than ever before.

My business will forever be a testament to the man who taught me to fight, to pray, and to love fiercely. And that, I think, is how we truly build brands that bless.

A soft place to land for those who need it: If you are walking through your own valley of grief, please know you are not alone. If you need prayer or just a space to be understood, you can always contact me here or DM me on Instagram. No solutions, just solidarity.