“I am not tragically colored. There is no great sorrow dammed up in my soul, nor lurking behind my eyes. No, I do not weep at the world. I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.”
— Zora Neale Hurston
Grief often reshapes how the world sees us. Many grieving parents are met with long stares, nervous silence, or softened voices. Some people expect us to collapse under the weight of sorrow. Others label us as tragic. But every grieving parent knows the truth is more complicated. We carry sorrow, yes—but we also carry strength. Some days we do fall apart. Other days we get up and face the world anyway. Grief does not make us weak. Grief forces us to sharpen something inside ourselves we never asked to know.
No one can understand a grieving parent by glancing at our eyes. Many of us learn to smile through the pain. Many of us work, speak, help others, and still carry our loss every second. People often assume sorrow defines us. But love defines us more. We are not just broken hearts and tear-streaked faces. We are builders, helpers, and quiet warriors. We shape lives while learning how to live again. Our loss shapes us, but it does not erase who we are—or who we are becoming.
The world may not understand the strength it takes to keep moving. Grief does not need to explain itself. The oyster knife in Zora’s words represents survival, defiance, and fierce intention. Every grieving parent sharpens something too—patience, courage, or compassion. The grief never leaves. But we learn to carve meaning from the fragments. We learn to protect joy when it returns. We learn to live without apology. We learn to sharpen our tools while others expect us only to weep.
Thought for today: Grief does not make you tragic. Keep sharpening your edge. You are still here, and you are still becoming.