“You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.” — Jon Kabat-Zinn
Grief comes in waves. The death of a child brings a tidal force that pulls everything under. Many parents try to resist the pain. Resistance feels like control, but it often deepens the suffering. Every grieving parent knows the shock of a wave they didn’t see coming. A smell, a song, a silence can crash into the heart without warning. The heart tries to make sense of the sorrow. The body braces for survival. But waves do not obey logic. Waves come when they come.
Parents who have lost a child often feel unprepared for the lifelong journey of grief. Grief changes shape, but never disappears. Learning to live with grief feels unnatural. Many parents learn to ride sorrow like a wave. That doesn’t mean enjoying it. That means not drowning in it. Some days, standing upright is enough. Some days, all we can do is float. Accepting the wave helps. Naming the wave helps. Giving the wave space helps. Peace begins with not fighting the tide.
No parent chooses this kind of strength. Grief shapes people in ways they never expected. Over time, grieving parents may begin to trust their balance. No wave can erase the love we carry. Love becomes the board we ride. Shared stories become the shoreline we scan for comfort. Deep sadness lives in the current, but so does deep connection. Each grieving person finds their rhythm eventually. Falling is not failure. Riding the wave is not forgetting. Riding the wave is surviving.
Thought for today: Welcome the wave without fear. Your grief has rhythm. Your love is the board that keeps you afloat.