2025 is one year I will never forget. It was the year I learned that joy and grief can coexist. Although I ended the year in a good place, I felt guilty for feeling okay. After losing my dad in 2025, it felt wrong not to see the year as the worst of my life. Still, I chose to lean into joy.
It has been a long year of navigating grief in many forms. A year defined by duty to family and the constant effort to stay grounded amid chaos. As the year drew to a close, I felt a wave of sadness, as though saying goodbye to 2025 meant leaving my dad behind, as if he had been buried somewhere within the year itself. It took conscious effort to stop that thought from taking root. I had to remind myself that while I lost my dad, and while it is deeply painful to acknowledge that our usual New Year conversations will never happen again, he will forever remain in my heart.
His presence will forever be a constant. There is not a day that I am not reminded of him. Even the simplest things, like driving or my reactions to situations, mirror him so closely. I find grief in random moments that bring him back to me. Each time I balance cash at work my mind travels back to my formative years watching him arrange coins in particular order while serving in the accounts section at church. These are memories that can never be buried.
I dreaded December, which is usually my favourite month of the year. Yet somehow, I still found December fun, and for the most part, I was happy, save for one time close to Christmas when I carried out my tradition of sending money back home to loved ones. That broke me. The first person I usually send to is my dad. I had to take a two-day break from the exercise. Those days were filled with prayers that the joy of giving would not depart from me.
There were moments where grief led me to question why my dad had to die. It crept in unexpectedly and left me with the feeling that something precious was stolen from me. I know it is a question without answers, so I let it pass. One passage that steadies me when I feel myself drifting into that space is this: “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21).
December, for me, is a month of love and appreciation. It is a time to honour those who made the year worthwhile. There is a deep sense of gratitude and joy I feel when I am able to give to those I care deeply about, knowing that in my own small way I can show appreciation and put a smile on someone’s face. This year, however, that same act carried a weight of sadness. Thankfully, I was able to get over it, complete the exercise with joy and experience the rest of the month in random waves of happiness and gratitude.
***
2025 was not a bad year. In fact, it was almost perfect, save for the immense loss I suffered. It feels wrong to call it a good year, yet it feels equally wrong to call it a bad one. After much reflection, I have come to realise that 2025 was an oxymoron. The year my greatest fear came to pass, losing my hero, yet also the year I somehow survived what I always thought would crush me, still genuinely happy while carrying on.
Navigating my grief nearly had me losing myself. My saving grace has been this truth: grief is not a linear process. I rose into responsibilities I had no map for, yet God’s grace carried me through. This was the year I truly learned that love is not broken by distance or opposing time zones. In the earliest days of my dad’s passing, I was held together by calls and messages from friends scattered across continents. 2025 was the year my community saved me. If there was ever a time I needed to be held firmly by my friends, this was it. I am deeply blessed to be surrounded by love and loyalty that stretches across oceans and time zones. Love lifted me and kept me grounded.
In all, I reflect on where I am mentally and the level of stability we have been able to achieve as a family. Oh, the new reality hit us so hard. We had to figure things out one day at a time. It was heavy and overwhelming, yet here we are, at peace. I am deeply grateful for the legacy my dad left behind, which has provided us with a huge soft landing, and for the family around us who have shown us nothing but support. The year might have been filled with grief, which nearly blinded me to the blessings God brought my way, but in this moment, I am at peace. And that, I think this is all that matters.
***
On second thought, I do not necessarily need to classify the year as good or bad. 2025 was what it was. Heavy, dark in places, demanding growth and responsibility. It was character development in its rawest form. The year matured me in ways I am still discovering. It was not the deeply personal year I had envisioned, one dedicated to career growth and self-development. Instead, it became a year of family duty. Of putting personal goals on hold to help guide my family toward stability. A worthy cause. One I am grateful to God for successfully navigating, even if it stretched me to my limits. I know my father would be proud.
If there is one thing I am especially grateful for, it is work. My housemate teased me that I worked excessively the past year, and I must have saved a fortune. As I explained to him, while work did bring financial benefits, that was never the main goal. Many mornings as I drove in to work, I’d mutter quietly, “I am grateful to be here”. Work helped me stay grounded. It kept me sane, gave me structure and was my anchor when everything else felt uncertain. Even during moments of burnout, having somewhere to go and something to focus on saved me from drowning in grief.
As for the financial perks, closing my Excel sheet at year’s end surprised me. Despite significant spending, especially on clothes (retail therapy truly saved me this year), I still met my savings goal. More than that, I crossed a net worth milestone I never dreamed of.
I revisited my 2021 records; the year I lost half my net worth to bad investments. I have written several times before about how this financial loss caused a mindset shift, and it was the catalyst for my choosing to relocate abroad to pursue a second degree to accelerate my career. I knew the only way to recover from that huge loss was to earn in foreign currency. The story is still being written, and while I am still in the waiting phase post-graduation, trusting God with my residency application and future career, I have seen His faithfulness clearly. My net worth has grown 560% since 2021.
The loss that led me here has been recovered many times over. I am not yet at the destination where I will look back and say, indeed, I needed to lose all that money in 2021, but I am singing with gratitude as the journey unfolds. I am truly humbled and grateful for God’s blessings. God has always been my provider, and He continues to amaze me each time.
2025 was a year for the books. New job. New home. New friendships. A japa journey not lived in survival mode. 2025 was not hard on me through my grief, and I am extremely grateful for this. For the joy and happiness in my grief, to have been able to still carry on, to smile and truly laugh without having to crumble under the weight of grief. 2025 was indeed a year when I started to grasp what it means to be free post-graduation, and I know 2026 will be even better.
My relocation story has truly been a testament to God’s guidance, and each year keeps getting even better. Australia, though not my first choice, makes perfect sense now. This path was ordained. My December keeps getting brighter. My quality of life keeps improving. I finally found a community where I can be myself freely. I had my first Christmas tree. I received gifts. I sat quietly one day and smiled, realising I am finally building a home here.
While I am in my waiting phase, I am entering 2026 with great expectations and hope for answered prayers. At the top of that list is the approval of my permanent residence application. I have asked myself, maybe I need to do more and the only thing that I think is left to do is to check my emails constantly, to allow the thought of when immigration will get back to me to consume me.
But nah, there is a better way to wait. I have done all this anxious waiting in the past and grown from those experiences to know that the so-called law of attraction/manifestation doesn’t apply that way. Yes, I truly want this, but I am choosing to wait patiently. I am learning to wait without fear, to trust without striving, and to believe that what is meant for me will arrive at the appointed time. If anything, my life patterns have shown me that God is the on-time God, and when it’s just right and perfect for me to get it, it will come. “He hath made everything beautiful in his time.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
One passage that continues to carry me is Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.” I have done all I am meant to do, so I wait peacefully. I am grateful that this is a soft waiting, not one filled with desperation or discomfort.
I refuse to let this season be filled with worry when I can enjoy this post-graduate phase I once prayed for. I choose to live fully, to be grateful, and make the best of these answered prayers. I won’t be focused on the future and miss out on the blessings of this phase I am supposed to experience, because when that future does come, I can best believe that I will be looking toward the next. Is that how I want to live? In a constant loop of always worrying about the next life phase? I have lived that way before, constantly chasing the next phase, and I know better now.
I don’t have everything figured out, but I choose to be intentional. I choose kindness toward myself. I choose reflection over rushing. If 2025 was the rupture, then 2026 will be the rebuilding. Slow. Honest. Steady. What was lost will not only be restored but redeemed. “I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten.” (Joel 2:25)
Thank you 2025 for the character development. It was not pretty, but it was the path I needed to walk at this stage of my life. Yes, there was grief, but there were also blessings that made the year bearable, and even beautiful in parts. So, thank you, 2025, for everything you were.
As I step into 2026, I hold on to this promise: “Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.” (Isaiah 43:19). I enter the new year with faith, expectation, and confidence, trusting that what God has begun, He will surely complete.