Grief in the Moments of Special Occasions.

There is a particular sorrow that gathers around the special occasions a child should have lived to see. It rises at graduations, at weddings, at the imagined sound of little grandchildren calling their name. These moments do not simply mark what has been lost in the past; they reveal what has been taken from the future. For bereaved parents, grief is not only missing the child who was, but also mourning the life that would have unfolded around them. Many, like myself, have written a great deal about type of grief and is commonly discussed in grief counseling sessions/groups.

A graduation may come and bring with it the sharp awareness of the empty seat, the absent photograph, the name that is never called. A wedding can carry a similar ache, not only because a beloved child is missing from the gathering, but because the heart cannot help but picture what their own celebration might have been. Grief at these times can feel especially disorienting because the world expects joy, while the bereaved parent is carrying both love and devastation at once. Guidance on grief and milestones often notes that these dates can intensify memory, anticipation, and the sense of absence, even many years after the loss. 

My daughter died at the beginning of her senior year. Once May arrived, the anguish that ensued was at times traumatic. Her school provided time during graduation to have friends speak about her and presented us with an honorary diploma. It left me with a sense of sadness at what could have been, that has never left me.

Perhaps one of the loneliest aspects of child loss is grieving what will never be fully known: the partner they might have loved, the home they might have made, the grandchildren they might have held. These are invisible losses, but they are no less real. They live in the imagination, in family gatherings, in passing years, and in every tender wondering of “what would have been.” Bereaved-parent organizations often speak of child loss as a lifelong grief because the love remains, and because new milestones continue to arrive carrying fresh reminders of what could have been

Yet even in these painful moments, love continues to shine through. To miss these occasions so deeply is to testify to the lasting place a child holds in a parent’s heart. The grief may change shape over time, but it does not mean the child is forgotten; it means they are still loved into every season, every celebration, and every silence. Special occasions can become places where sorrow and remembrance meet, and where a parent quietly honors the child who should still be here.

Until next time,

Mal

Turning the Page

I haven’t written in a few months, which is unlike me, but we have been through it these past few months. Hell, we’ve been through it during 2024 and 2025. We are ready to turn the page and start 2026 with a grateful but tired heart.

In April 2025 we finally finished the repairs on our house thanks to Hurricane Milton. It was a constant battle to keep the project moving forward and when it didn’t it seemed as though we were trudging uphill through mud. We, like many others found our savings depleted along with our mental and physical health. 2024 and 2025 took a measurable toll on us.

One of the last unimaginable moments came to us just before Christmas as our dear Mimi fell ill. We had just stepped off the plane from a NYC trip and quickly turned to the hospital where she’d been transferred to be admitted into a cardiac unit.

As the week unfolded it became increasingly clear she would not walk out of the hospital. You see, as a nurse and a granddaughter, I’d seen this before. The body succumbing to the late stages of congestive heart failure (CHF). My grandmother died from a long battle with CHF in 1995 while I was at her bedside. Watching her struggle to breathe was the hardest thing outside of my mother dying five years earlier.

Just days into the new year, she passed away peacefully during a short stay in hospice care. Mimi was like my own grandmother in so many ways; and I loved her so much. Being an orphaned daughter/granddaughter, Mimi’s love for me was so needed and appreciated. Her hugs were the absolute best. We had a kinship and bond because we both had lost children. She knew the pain I carried and never really needed to talk about it. But those hugs were the best balm for my heart over the years. For the last 15 years, she called me every year on my birthday to sing happy birthday and then giggle and say goodbye. She wasn’t much of a talker on the phone, but boy could she write a letter. She was a great pen pal over the many years.

She was a faithful woman and cherished her family. She lived a great life of 90 years and raised an amazing family, for which I’m grateful to be a part of.  She will be missed greatly by this family and many friends.  

Fly High Mimi

Until Next Time,

M