Lifelines of Love: When Friends Hold You Through Grief
In my deepest grief, I retreated into silence but my family and friends remained, gently calling and texting even when I couldn’t respond. Their unwavering support guided me out of isolation and helped me rediscover hope, trust, and the Danielle I believed was lost.
7/21/20252 min read
My family and friends have been a lifeline for me throughout my life and especially during my grief. They checked on me, even when I didn’t want them to. In the depths of my sorrow, they knew me better than I knew myself and saw my strength when I couldn’t. Their love supported my healing in ways I still can’t fully express.
Unfortunately, one of my most practiced grief coping mechanisms has been isolation. I felt safer pulling away from the world and from the people I loved. I am incredibly fortunate to have a dedicated support network who kept showing up no matter how unresponsive I was. They would call and text, and I just could not respond. This went on for over five years. It sounds so easy to just text back but I could not. I felt deeply guilty about my silence, I saw and loved every thoughtful message. When I could, I tried to say, “I am sorry I didn’t respond, but your check-ins mean so much.” These check-ins were lifelines helping keep me afloat and every single one mattered.
One of my precious lifelines has been my childhood friends. We have been friends for more than forty years. These girls are relentless in their love and support and I know what a gift that is. These women knew me before Carter was ever imagined. They saw me grow, experienced me as a mother to Carter, and witnessed my grief in its rawest form. Saying they are incredible is an understatement.
Losing my motherhood as I knew it left me untethered, these women became a vital link to my past. They helped me rediscover myself again by reminding me that I am still fun, loving, supportive, and encouraging. Those parts of me did not dissolve. They remind me to love and to be loved.
When I felt utterly lost and didn’t recognize myself or my life, these women gave me space without judgment and offered love when I couldn’t give it back. With them I felt embraced, seen, and supported. I trusted them deeply and eventually followed their leads to help me out of my isolation. I knew their intentions were rooted in love and care. Over time, I began to respond to texts and started to consider taking their calls. I started with simple “good morning” texts and gradually built up to more. Step by step, I let them back in and lowered my walls. I have been practicing this for the past 3 years and I remain so grateful for their patience. I still fall back into my isolation in times of overwhelm but I now notice it and try to remind myself to reengage with life and love. When I do, I am almost always rewarded with more ease and happiness.
These women believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself and their affirmations became my mantra. When one friend would say, “I know you will find your way,” I didn’t believe it at first but I trusted her. If she saw it, maybe it was true. Slowly, I began to believe it too.
After losing Carter, friendships became more important than ever. His death taught me the value of cherishing loved ones while we still can. I now tell my family and friends “I love you” frequently and out loud. My love for them is deep and never taken for granted. To all my precious lifelines who have supported me so relentlessly, thank you. You have helped guide and sustain me through the darkest times, and I will always be grateful.