“I know that people can be better than they are. We are capable of bearing a great burden, once we discover that the burden is reality and arrive where reality is.” — James Baldwin
Grief does not ask for permission. The death of a child rewrites every part of life. Many parents wake up and forget for a second. Then the weight returns like a wave. Nothing feels right anymore. The burden feels impossible to carry. Yet somehow, each day, we do carry it. Grieving parents discover strength they never asked to find. Strength comes not from overcoming grief but from surviving beside it. Reality does not go away. But grief can carve space where courage once slept.
Every grieving parent lives in two worlds. The world before the loss, and the world after. Reality changes shape after a child dies. We no longer pretend that life is fair. We no longer avoid hard truths. Pain becomes a language we learn to speak. That pain also makes us more honest. Grieving parents often learn how to sit with discomfort. That discomfort becomes sacred ground. Within that reality, growth becomes possible. We become more tender, more present, more real with each breath we continue to take.
Bearing the burden of reality does not mean healing all at once. Accepting reality is not giving up. Accepting reality means facing each day with open eyes and an aching heart. Some days we cry. Some days we breathe. Some days we help someone else stand. Grief teaches us how to be better—not in spite of the pain, but through it. Facing the reality of loss can awaken the deepest compassion within us. That compassion becomes a quiet form of strength.
Thought for today: Let reality rest in your hands, even when it feels heavy. Your presence is proof of your strength.