Blessed Uffda: A Soft Goodbye Puff, puff, pass. It is funny how a simple phrase can hold years of memories. There were moments of laughter, moments of calm when life felt too loud, moments when the world pressed in and this little ritual gave me a breath of space. I am not angry at the herb, and I am not ashamed of the time we spent together. It helped. It soothed. It gave comfort when comfort was scarce. It was a companion on long nights and heavy days. It was a beautiful crutch when my steps were unsteady. And I honor that. I am grateful for what it brought to my life: relief, pause, peace, and a spark of light when things were dim. But a crutch, even a helpful one, is not meant to become a home. Somewhere inside me, a quiet realization began to grow. Not loud, not demanding, just gentle, like the soft glow of a lamp turning on in a familiar room. The realization is simple: I do not need you in the same way anymore. It is not a rejection. It is not a cold goodbye. It feels more like embracing an old friend at the doorway and saying, “Thank you for walking with me. I can take the next steps on my own.” Blessed Uffda, there is something holy about this moment. I feel God nudging me toward clarity, toward presence, toward a mind steady and awake enough to receive the life I once tended to pass by. This is not losing something. This is finding myself again. This is stepping fully into the gift God has placed in my hands. So here is my soft farewell: Puff, puff, thank you. Puff, puff, farewell. Puff, puff, I am ready to be here. Fully. Awake. Alive. Home.