Grateful
- Katherine Tatsuda

- Oct 31
- 1 min read
Updated: Oct 31

I love the people in my life—
those near and far,
the ones woven into my days
and the ones who simply drift through with kindness.
Friends. Colleagues.
Souls I barely know
who send small bursts of light—
a message, a video, a moment that makes me smile.
This season has held
a level of loneliness and isolation that tested the edges of my hope.
And yet—
there have been sparks.
Tiny reminders that my light still glows beneath the ash,
quiet, steady, waiting for breath.
I am usually the one who gives first,
who shows up with love,
who holds space for others.
I still am.
But this year, my light has been buried
beneath hurt and hard—
a soul reckoning that became an excruciating, all-consuming creation.
One that asked me to turn my light inward
and finally put myself in the spotlight.
My light has stayed alive—
nurtured by kindness,
by warmth freely given,
by love founded in truth
that asked for nothing in return,
And for that,
I am deeply, endlessly grateful.



