2025: A Year of Grief, Growth, and the Gift of Resilience
2025 was a year of grieving, letting go, wrestling with anxiety, healing, learning, and slowly bouncing back. Losing my father in late November 2024 left a wound that carried into the new year. My mother, who had spent years adjusting her life around his illness, suddenly found herself adrift. Watching her struggle with this emptiness made my own anxiety heavier, even as I tried to care for my family.
In January, around my birthday, we thought a change of
scenery might help. We traveled to Tadoba and Pench National Parks, immersing
ourselves in the raw wilderness. Nature has always been my refuge, and my
mother too finds solace among trees and skies. She enjoyed the trip, yet soon
after, she slipped back into her quiet grief. I felt the weight of it again,
but I kept moving forward.
Meanwhile, my creative journey unfolded. March brought the publication of my debut pattern—the Malhar Tank with Expression Fiber Arts. Though I had submitted the Vana Wrap earlier, it remains unpublished, waiting for its right moment.
April and May were milestones too, with the release of the Ursa Boyfriend Style Cardigan and the Sakura Convertible Dress. Collaborating with the Crochet Foundry team was exciting, though bittersweet when news came that sales were slow and payments delayed—still pending, a sigh I carry. Yet amidst it all, I celebrated a personal triumph: the La Résilience Beanie, sister to my beloved cowl. Both patterns resonated deeply and found their place in many hands and hearts. 
My mother, though still searching for her purpose, began to
find balance—splitting her time between her own home, where she rediscovered
independence, and my sister’s, where she embraced her role as a loving
grandmother. By April and May, life felt lighter, less anxious, more alive.
April brought a vibrant kick-off meet in Goa—because Goa is always joy, no matter who you’re with.
Traveling with my best friend and her twins, we laughed, fought, and created memories stitched with love. From Kausani to Shimla, then onward to Sangla, Kalpa, Chitkul, and a stop at Narkanda—every destination was picture-perfect, every moment a reminder of how healing joy can be.
June brought new beginnings: my sister accepted a position as Assistant Professor in Bangalore. so, all of us got involved in packing and moving the things. I along with my sister went to Bangalore to complete some formalities and check out her rented apartment. It was kind of time out for both of us, we went some local sight-seeing and shopping, it was a quick weekend trip, a pause from the heaviness.
But July arrived with heavy monsoon rains and heavier goodbyes. My sister relocated, and my mother went with her. I was left sulking in my sorrow, anxiety resurfacing. Though Chandi approved two of my patterns for Expression Fiber Arts, I found myself drifting. I designed, wrote, and made the sample for one pattern, but then froze—tears became my only outlet. I didn’t even know why I was crying. Seeking help, I turned back to my older draft patterns, and with the support of dear friends, began testing again. July to October was a season of emotional and physical struggle. No photos to share :(
October and November brought light back. I independently published two cushion block patterns—Lumielle and Bergenia.
Diwali celebrations with loved ones, combined with the joy of publishing, gave me strength to manage my stress. I remember Murakami’s words:
“Every one of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings that we can never get back. That’s part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads… there’s a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own private library.”
December was the month of rhythm returning, of hope rekindled. Out of nowhere, the Yonderlight Ornament pattern was born. With the support of my friends, testing was completed in time, and the pattern was published to warm reception. The love and appreciation I received filled me with joy.
My mother was home for the holidays, and I realized something profound—she is my HOME. With family and friends by my side, I understood that no matter how many times life knocks me down, I can always bounce back.
And so, I close this year with another Murakami line that never fails to resonate:
“Things outside you are projections of what’s inside you, and what’s inside you is a projection of what’s outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you’re stepping into the labyrinth inside.”
2025 was a labyrinth of grief and resilience, endings and
beginnings, shadows and light. And through it all, I kept walking.
Wishing you all the good things that the new year can bring, because you deserve them all!🌟
Happy Holidays! 💕
