“I am a woman’s rights. I have as much muscle as any man, and can do as much work as any man. I have plowed and reaped and husked and chopped and mowed.” — Sojourner Truth
Grief strips away everything we once believed about strength. The loss of a child leaves us hollow, unsure we can go on. But the human spirit often proves stronger than we expect. Grieving parents rise each day carrying a weight no one else can see. Many grieving parents still show up for others, for work, for life. The smallest acts become victories. Folding laundry. Answering the phone. Making dinner. Those things take tremendous strength. Grief teaches us that muscle does not always look like force. Strength often hides in stillness and survival.
Parents who have buried a child understand endurance in a way that others cannot. That endurance doesn’t come from wanting to be strong. That endurance comes from having no choice. A grieving parent learns to keep moving even when broken. The world continues demanding our attention, but we walk through it changed. We carry grief like armor and ache. We have done the hardest work—living after loss. No one who has plowed through pain should ever doubt their worth. The body may feel heavy, but the soul still stands.
The work of grief does not follow a schedule. There is no neat harvest at the end. But there is growth. Some days, all we can do is breathe. On others, we may find ourselves comforting someone else. That strength comes from the love we still carry. That love never leaves. Love becomes the muscle we build from sorrow. Each task we complete, each time we speak the name of our child, becomes a quiet form of power. Grief has not defeated us. Grief has revealed the strength already within.
Thought for today: Grief is hard work. Let each step you take today remind you of the quiet power you carry.