Beyond Grief

Grief has a way of remaking you...

Grief has a way of remaking you.

But first, grief has a way of unmaking you. It reaches into the deepest parts of who you thought you were, and pulls apart the pieces, one memory, one longing, one breath at a time.

After losing your child, the world does not just dim; it becomes unrecognizable. You look at yourself in the mirror and see someone you don’t fully know anymore. You look at the life you have and wonder how much of it still fits, or if any of it ever truly did.

Grief teaches that life is impossibly short and unbearably precious. You must find a way to live with grief. To breathe alongside the pain. To stop apologizing for wanting more from yourself, from your relationships, from the time you have left on this earth.

But in grief, wanting becomes complicated. People often assume that desire comes from clarity, but sometimes the deepest desires arise from pain, from a raw ache - an inner truth we can feel long before we can explain. When you are told by someone: “you don’t know what you want,” they fail to understand that grief does not erase knowing; it simply changes the language of it.

The heart knows long before the logic catches up. It knows when a place no longer feels like home. It knows when love has changed shape. It clarifies what we can no longer carry. It reveals what we have outgrown. It liberates truths we were too afraid to say aloud before the loss cracked us open.

Yes, you are grieving.

You are grieving the loss of your child.

You are grieving the future you dreamed for him.

You are grieving the version of yourself who existed before his diagnoses, hospitals and the unthinkable happened.

You are also grieving the life you had that no longer fits.

But grief does not make you confused; it makes you honest. It strips away everything you used to cling to and reveals what is real.

Maybe you don’t have all the answers, yet. Clarity comes in fragments, the way sunlight breaks through a heavy sky. But you do know what your heart is telling you: that you deserve to live, not just survive. That you deserve to be in spaces where your healing is nourished, not questioned. That your child’s life - and your love for him - has changed you too deeply to stay in places that ask you to silence what you’ve learned, more importantly, who you are.

You are not confused. You are awakening.

Choose your life from a place of truth. And tell the truth, even when it hurts.