Sometimes Several Griefs Are Sitting at the Same Table
- Sharon Leonard

- May 18
- 2 min read
There was a time I believed I was grieving only the loss of my child. I thought if I could somehow learn to survive that heartbreak, everything else inside of me would settle, too.
But grief has a way of uncovering what was already hurting.
Sometimes we think we are grieving one thing, when actually several griefs are sitting together at the same table.
For many grieving mothers, the loss of a child is connected to other losses too:
the loss of who we used to be
the loss of innocence
the loss of safety
changes in marriage and relationships
loneliness
unanswered prayers
emotional exhaustion
dreams that will never happen the way we imagined
feeling misunderstood by people we thought would hold us closest

And because many mothers are used to nurturing everyone else, we often suppress what is truly happening inside of us.
We stay busy. We smile. We serve. We encourage others. We quote scripture. We say, “I’m okay. ”Meanwhile, our hearts are carrying pain we have never honestly named.
But buried grief does not disappear. It often shows up in other ways:
irritability
emotional numbness
isolation
anxiety
exhaustion
resentment
difficulty connecting with others
feeling emotionally lost
constantly trying to “push through.”
Honest grieving looks different.
Honest grieving says, “I miss my child today. ”This still hurts. ”I am angry. ”I feel lonely. ”I do not have the words. ”I need support too. ”I am trying to heal while carrying pain.”
Honest grieving allows tears without shame.
It allows a mother to say her child’s name out loud. It allows hard days to be hard days. It allows us to stop pretending that healing means forgetting.
One of the most healing things we can do is simply name what we are carrying.
Maybe you are grieving:
your child
your old life
your peace
your marriage
your health
your joy
your sense of identity
years you cannot get back
relationships that changed after loss
Naming it matters.
Because unspoken grief often becomes hidden suffering.
As mothers, many of us were taught to be strong for everyone else. But strength is not pretending we are unaffected. Real strength is allowing ourselves to tell the truth about our pain while still choosing to keep living.
Even scripture shows us honest grief.
David lamented. Job cried out. Naomi changed her name because of bitterness. Jesus wept.
God never demanded polished pain from broken people.
Healing does not begin when we suppress grief. Healing begins when we stop hiding from it.
At Grief’s Light Outreach, I want mothers to know this: You do not have to carry grief silently to be faithful. You do not have to rush your healing to make others comfortable. You do not have to pretend you are okay when your heart is hurting.
Grieve honestly. Speak truthfully. Cry when needed. Rest when needed. Remember your child openly. And permit yourself to heal one honest moment at a time.
Your grief deserves compassion, too.




Comments