“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” — C.S. Lewis
Many parents who lose a child do not expect grief to feel like fear. The sharpness of loss often brings a deep, unsettling anxiety. The heart races without clear cause. The mind searches desperately for safety in a world that no longer feels safe. Fear hides in the shadows of grief, creating a constant tension inside. Waking hours can stretch with an uneasy edge. Sleep may come only briefly or not at all. The body and mind remain alert to dangers that have already passed.
Grief and fear often mingle, making it hard to separate one from the other. The fear of what might happen next can overwhelm the memory of what already has. That fear can lead to isolation, as many avoid sharing feelings they cannot name. Talking openly about grief’s fearful nature can lessen its power. Connecting with others who understand creates a safe space for healing. Recognizing fear as part of grief can bring unexpected relief. Knowing others carry similar burdens can bring comfort and reduce loneliness.
Fear does not have to define the journey through grief. The body’s alertness can become a signal to slow down and breathe. Gentle presence, whether from self or others, can soothe the restless spirit. Relearning safety in a changed world takes time and patience. Support and compassion become lifelines. The courage to face grief’s fear can open space for hope. Over time, the grip of fear may loosen. Grief will remain, but fear need not hold control.
Thought for today: Allow yourself to notice fear within grief. Compassion toward that fear is the first step toward peace.