Living WIth Grief in a World That Keeps Moving Forward

As a bereaved mother, I live with my grief every day as the world continues to move forward. People’s lives moved forward, I know they still care, but it wasn’t their heart that shattered. It wasn’t their world that changed forever. Nothing about losing a child is normal, and nothing about the life that follows feels normal either.

If you are a parent, think about how many times a day you check in on your child in your mind. It is effortless and constant. When your child dies, those thoughts don’t suddenly disappear. What changes is the pain that now arrives with them. Every thought becomes a reminder of the moments you no longer get to have, the future you can no longer watch unfold. That ache runs deep.

Life as a bereaved mom is not for the faint of heart. Some days I move with a little more steadiness, and other days it feels like grief reaches up and pulls me under. It isn’t intentional or dramatic, it just is. Grief becomes the background hum of your life, sometimes a whisper and sometimes a roar. There are days I manage well, and days when a single memory knocks me flat. This pain is born from love, and it rises and falls on its own schedule.

A moment from this week explains it better. I was driving to the jewelry studio, a place I deeply love. The mountains looked beautiful and the music was playing. It was one of those quiet, gentle drives where I usually happily "talk" to my son. Then, without warning, grief hit like a punch to the chest. The kind of pain that brings instant tears. That is the reality of this life, a normal moment can become heartbreak in seconds. It takes energy to recover from that kind of wave. It dims your light for a while. It reminds you that you live with one foot in this world and one in the world where your child still is.

Now seven years in, I have learned how to carry my grief, but that does not mean it has become easy. I still live with a wound you cannot see. You might look at me and have no idea that I survived the unthinkable. You do not come back from watching your child die as the same person.

This is the life of a bereaved mother. It is hard and heavy, shaped by an ache that never leaves. It is also held together by a love so powerful it refuses to fade. That love is what steadies me, keeps me moving, and gives me strength.

My life will always be different than most, but I am learning that my lasting love for my son will help me navigate this world that keeps moving forward.