Forever Bentley: A Mother's Journey Through Grief

This past weekend, Spencer and I tried to escape reality for a little while. We took a trip to Nashville, filling our days with good food, new experiences, and moments of laughter. We played arcade games, tried axe throwing for the first time, and indulged in the best French toast I’ve ever had. We even left a little piece of Bentley behind at the Farmers’ Market, a small way to keep his memory traveling with us.

But no matter how much we tried to escape, grief was still there—woven into every moment, just beneath the surface.

Grief doesn’t disappear just because you take a trip. It doesn’t stay behind when you walk out the door or pack a suitcase. It follows you, because it’s part of you now. And as much as that realization can feel heavy, I’ve also come to see it as something else—a reminder of love that never leaves.

I won’t lie and say it’s easy. There were moments this weekend when the weight of missing Bentley felt unbearable. The ache of knowing he should be here, that he should be making these memories with us, never truly fades. But in those same moments, I also felt him with us. In the little signs, in the warmth of the sun, in the quiet reassurance that he wouldn’t want us to stop living.

That’s the thing about grief—it doesn’t mean we stop. It means we carry our love forward, even when it hurts. It means we keep living, because our children would want us to. Bentley would want us to.

So, if you’re in this place too—where moving forward feels impossible, where guilt creeps in at the thought of joy—please know this: it’s okay to live. It’s okay to laugh, to take trips, to try new things. Your grief will come with you, but so will your love. And as hard as it is, I truly believe that’s what they would want for us.

We carry them forward, not by staying stuck in pain, but by continuing to live—for them, and for ourselves.

With love,

Blake💜