Finding Pockets of Joy in the Unending Journey of Grief:
When I write about grief, someone once told me, “It feels like you think your friends didn’t do enough for you.”
But here’s the truth: what more can a friend really do than be there for a moment and then return to their own lives? That’s not neglect, it’s reality. Friends can hold you, feed you, call you, and sit quietly in your presence. But at some point, they will leave. And when the quiet returns, so does the reminder: grief is yours to carry.
The Personal Nature of Grief
Loss is not something that can be fully shared. Even when siblings lose the same parent, the grief is never identical. It sits differently in each person, shaped by their memories, their bond, their way of loving.
That’s why grief is personal. It’s a journey only you can walk. And in my case, if I’m being honest, the only thing I would have wanted help with was to bring my mum back to life. But that, of course, is impossible.
That’s the truth about grief: it demands that you live with the impossible. And in that impossibility lies the hardest truth; it demands that you learn to live with what cannot be undone.
So what remains? An unending journey. A weight you learn not to put down, but to carry differently as time passes.
Pockets of Joy in the Unending Journey
Yet somewhere along the path of grief, I’ve discovered something unexpected: the presence of joy. Not joy that erases grief, it never does, but joy that coexists with it.
A laugh shared with a friend who still remembers your loved one’s quirks.
The smell of a meal your mother once cooked.
The warmth of a sunny day when your heart feels impossibly heavy.
The conversation that reminds you of them.
A little dance, a sprinkle of good stories here and there.
The sound of your own laughter catching you by surprise after weeks of silence.
These are pockets of joy in grief. Small, fleeting, sometimes so fragile that you almost miss them. But they matter. They remind you that even within the shadows of grief, life still reaches for you, still offers moments of sweetness.
What Friends Can and Cannot Do
Friends cannot fix grief. They cannot carry it for you. They cannot bring back the person you’ve lost. But what they can do is sit with you in those moments when the weight feels unbearable. And sometimes, they become the very reason you notice those pockets of joy.
A shared memory. A sudden burst of laughter. A quiet afternoon that feels lighter because someone chose to stay.
And then, when they return to their own lives, you realise that while grief is unending, joy still finds its way in.
Learning to Hold Both
The truth is, grief never ends. But neither does life. And within life are tiny openings for joy, reminders that you are still here, still breathing, still able to love.
Grief teaches us that our loved ones cannot return. Joy teaches us that we can keep carrying them forward. Both exist side by side. And maybe that’s the quiet miracle: that in the unending journey of grief, joy still dares to bloom.
Happy anniversary, Mum. Two years today, and I’m still navigating the ache of your absence and the light of your memory.
