On the Brink of Tragedy: A Reflection on Grief, Growth, and Grace
On the brink of tragedy, I learned something about myself—as a wounded woman, a single mother, a soldier in the army of life, and now, the main character in the life I’m choosing for myself.
On the last day of last month, my heart was broken.
It was broken in a way that no mother, friend, or family member ever wants to experience—but nonetheless, there we stood: broken, confused, and lost in the devastation of a child’s death.
A self-inflicted death that shattered us all in different ways.
A Lesson in Presence and Selflessness
Being present for someone in the immediate aftermath of their greatest loss requires more than words. It requires selflessness, strength, and love—all while trying to hold onto your own mental well-being.
I was four states and eleven hours away by car, but just two and a half hours by plane. When the call came—when I heard the sound of my friend’s grief and saw the words in that text message—it broke something deep within me. I didn’t pause to ask why or how. I simply asked: How can I show up for her?
This friend, a caregiver herself, was now the one needing care. And I felt pulled to be fully present, to ensure she had what she needed—emotionally, logistically, spiritually. I found myself suppressing the care I needed for myself so I could pour into her as best I could.
A New Experience With Grief
This was the first time I had been this close to a suicide. I pray it’s the last.
I found myself:
Reaching out to my children just because
Texting “I love you” more often
Walking the parking lot in silent and spoken prayer
Processing grief with my closest circle of friends
There was an unspoken rule: you cannot out-grieve a parent in mourning. So I didn’t hide my emotions, but I did remove them in moments when her pain required me to be strong. Still, certain things triggered sharp, unexpected grief: a laugh, a silence, a memory, the realization that he would never again be in his room, gaming, grabbing fast food, or laughing with his friends.
Each time she re-entered the room, or rejoined a conversation, we asked, “Are you OK?”—knowing, of course, that she wasn’t, and wouldn’t be for a long time. But what else are we taught to say?
Growth in the Midst of Grief
In this tragedy, I saw my growth.
I realized how far I’ve come—how I’ve started facing my past and current relationships with honesty and clarity. The loss reminded me to make peace, to forgive, and to let go of what I can’t control.
I’d been working quietly on my wellness and peace of mind for a while now. But this moment brought it into sharp focus. It reminded me that:
“Forgiveness is not for others, but for yourself.”
“Forgiveness isn’t approving what happened, but choosing to rise above it.”
And yes—I was angry.
Angry at the child, for a moment, for causing so much pain.
Angry that it happened after what my friend described as “a good morning.”
Angry at his mother and father and sisters and brothers for whatever reason.
Angry at myself for not understanding the depth of sadness he must have been carrying.
Angry at myself for being angry in the first place.
But I’ve grown enough to recognize those emotions. To name them. To sit with them. And eventually, to forgive myself for feeling them.
A New Focus: Emotional Wellness
On the brink of tragedy, I’ve learned that emotional wellness needs constant tuning. Just like physical health, it requires attention, maintenance, and compassion.
That is where my focus will be moving forward:
Caring for my emotions with intention
Showing up for others without losing myself
Practicing forgiveness—even when the pain is fresh
Creating space for grief, healing, and peace to coexist
Final Thought
Tragedy doesn’t always change us—it reveals us.
It shows us what we’ve buried, what we’ve grown through, and what we still need to heal.
And through all of it, there is strength. There is purpose. There is you, rising in the face of what tried to break you.