Surviving Grief

  🎆 Freedom to Grieve: A Reflection on the Fourth of July 🕯️ Opening Reflection "The evenings were the hardest to bear. The ritual of the hot drink, the lumps of sugar for the two dogs, the saying of prayers... I continued the ritual, because this too lessened pain, and was, in its very poignancy, a consolation." —Daphne Du Maurier, as quoted in Healing After Loss by Martha Whitmore Hickman 🕊️ Grieving Through the Celebrations Holidays are often painted with the colors of celebration, fireworks, and joy. But for those of us who are grieving, they can feel more like quiet shadows than bursts of light. This Fourth of July, while the world celebrates freedom, I find myself navigating a different kind of liberty— the freedom to feel deeply, to mourn openly, and to carry both joy and sorrow in the same breath. ✨ Holding On to Rituals I thought about rituals today. The waving of the flag. The family gathered around the grill, laughing. Fireworks paint the sky. These t...

 Firsts After Loss: The Fork on the Table  and the Ache in the Heart The day goes by like a shadow o’er the heart, With sorrow, where all was delight. —STEPHEN FOSTER 🍴 Grief in the Fork Sometimes it’s hard to remember how life felt before loss shifted the ground beneath us—like a landslide, like an earthquake. In the early days, we began to track time by “firsts.” The first trip to the grocery store. The first movie I watched alone. The first time setting the table… with one less place. I remember my first vividly. My mom died two days before New Year’s. Since then, I haven’t celebrated a single holiday. Not New Year’s, not Christmas, not the Fourth of July. Only birthdays now—and even those feel different. The joy faded with her voice, with her light. Without my mom, the calendar feels hollow . Tawni—my niece, my girl—used to call me every birthday. I waited for her that year. Then I remembered. And just last night, Bryce reached into the drawer and grabbed three forks for ...