Welcome to the Wonder and the Weed show. I recently recorded an episode right after returning from the gym, with no makeup on and my dog snoring right next to me. I wanted to share a real look into my life because the topic was incredibly personal: we discussed grief and how it never truly has an end date.

The Illusion of Moving On

If you have been listening, you know I recently moved my empty nest from the East Coast to Minnesota. This massive change required me to restart my therapy practice and figure out my next career steps. What I have noticed is that major life changes often kick up old grief.

My father died of cancer when I was just four years old. Years later, when I was around 30 and had just welcomed my second baby, my mother also passed away from cancer. I recently lost my older sister as well. Society often expects us to be over our losses after a certain timeline. The reality is that no one ever simply goes back to normal after losing someone. My life has a very distinct before and after when it comes to my mother’s death.

The Box and the Ball Metaphor

An old boss once shared a visual with me that perfectly describes how grief changes over the years. Imagine a box containing a big red rubber ball.

• When you first lose someone, the box is barely bigger than the ball.
• The sides of the ball touch the box almost constantly, and every time it hits the side, it hurts.
• Over time, the box does not grow, but the ball deflates a little bit.
• The ball will still move around inside the box and hit the sides.
• When it hits, the depth of the loss can feel just as bad as it did in the beginning.
• It just happens less frequently.

Milestones and Sneaky Grief

Grief does not always look like sadness. Sometimes it shows up as frustration, irritability, or a deep sense that something is unfair. It often hits during developmental stages or major life milestones.

For example, when my oldest daughter was in the eighth grade, her school hosted a fashion show. It was a beautiful night, but when I looked around and saw almost every other mom there with their parents, I felt a crushing sadness. I realized that my children’s milestones would always carry a bittersweet feeling because my mom was not there to experience them.+2

How I Navigate the Weeds

I always like to offer coping strategies for the weeds of life. Here is how I try to manage the unpredictable waves of grief:

• Make space for the feelings: I acknowledge my anger, sadness, or frustration without judging myself. I know that allowing these feelings in will not cause them to take over my life permanently.
• Plan for the hard days: If I know a tough anniversary or an emotional milestone is coming up, I plan for it. I might decide to lighten my workload, watch movies in my pajamas, or take a walk.
• Choose to look for the good: It is easy to sit in the unfairness of loss. I make an intentional choice every day to look for the delightful things in my life. For instance, moving to Minnesota means I am now closer to my father’s extended family. Getting to know them has been a wonderful gift.

Grieving for as long as you need to does not make you weak. It just means that losing someone you love is incredibly hard. Giving yourself the grace to navigate that pain is where your true strength lies.