“Mama exhorted her children at every opportunity to ‘jump at de sun.’ We might not land on the sun, but at least we would get off the ground.” — Zora Neale Hurston
Grief can pin us down like gravity. The loss of a child weighs heavier than anything I have ever known. Many grieving parents feel frozen by the ache. Dreams vanish. Motivation fades. Even hope can feel like betrayal. But somewhere deep beneath the sorrow, the soul remembers motion. Some days, movement is only a whisper—a single breath, a gentle step, a tear offered to the wind. Trying again is not always about success. Sometimes, the attempt to reach is the healing itself.
The pain may never fully leave, but courage grows in its shadow. A grieving parent carries more strength than most will ever understand. Grief deepens our awareness of what matters. We learn to speak truth plainly. We love with fierceness. Even while hurting, many parents encourage others to keep going. Those moments of encouragement are sacred. Offering hope does not mean ignoring the pain. Offering hope means standing in sorrow and still choosing to lift your eyes. Reaching toward the sun does not mean escaping the grief. Reaching upward means trusting that your story still matters.
Some people believe joy must come after grief. I no longer believe in that sequence. Moments of joy and grief often arrive side by side. Both emotions share the same space in a broken heart. Even one smile, shared through tears, can feel like jumping at the sun. No one has to leap far. A single moment of courage can break the stillness. A grieving soul may not land in the light every time. But the attempt to rise becomes its own kind of flight.
Thought for today: Let one act of reaching become enough. Even a small leap can bring light to a heavy heart.