We Are Always Carrying It

What grieving parents wish you understood

When a child dies, there is something most people don’t see.

It’s not visible.

It’s not loud.

But it is always there.

We are carrying it.

The luggage.

The weight.

The love and grief that now live side by side.

And I want to be clear—this is not a burden we resent.

We want to carry it. We are honored to carry it.

Because it’s all we have left to hold.

But it is heavy.

After the funeral, something shifts.

The casseroles stop coming.

The meal trains end.

The messages become less frequent.

People return to their lives—their routines, their responsibilities, their normal.

And that’s okay. It’s human.

But grieving parents don’t return to normal.

Because there is no “before” to return to.

While the world moves forward, we are still carrying a suitcase filled with everything that matters most.

Every memory.

Every missed milestone.

Every future that will never unfold.

We carry it everywhere.

To school events.

To work.

To the grocery store.

To holidays and birthdays and quiet nights at home.

Sometimes we carry it well. Sometimes we don’t.

But we are always carrying it.

And some days, it feels heavier than others.

Holidays.

Anniversaries.

Birthdays.

Milestones.

These are the days when the weight presses down the hardest.

Most people don’t offer to help.

Not because they don’t care—but because they’re unsure.

They don’t want to say the wrong thing.

They don’t want to “remind” us.

They don’t want to interrupt if we seem okay.

But here’s the truth:

You are not reminding us.

We already remember.

Every single day.

What grieving parents need is not silence.

We need connection.

We need acknowledgment.

We need someone willing to step in and help carry the weight.

My brother was a bellman for years.

When families arrived at a hotel, he would greet them, take their bags, and place them on a cart. Not because they couldn’t carry them—but because sometimes it feels good to have someone else hold the weight.

To glide, even briefly, without strain.

That’s what it feels like when someone shows up for a grieving parent.

It can be simple.

“I was thinking about William today.”

“Do you want me to sit with you? I imagine this might be hard.”

“Can I light a candle for him tonight?”

“Tell me about him—I’d love to know him through you.”

Or even just:

“I’m here. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

These moments don’t take the grief away.

Nothing ever will.

But they shift the weight.

And that shift—however small—is everything.

So the next time you have the opportunity to show up for someone who is grieving:

Don’t look away.

Don’t stay silent.

Don’t assume they’re okay.

Step closer.

Offer your hands.

And say:

“Can I help you carry that?”

Because we are always carrying it.

And it becomes just a little bit lighter when someone chooses to carry it with us.

If this resonated with you…

If you are supporting someone who is grieving, send them a message today. Say their child’s name. Offer to sit with them.

And if you are a grieving parent reading this—you are not alone in what you’re carrying.

At William’s Be Yourself Challenge, we are working to create spaces where families don’t have to carry their grief alone. Learn more about our mission and The Green House Retreat, a place designed for rest, connection, and support.

William and Kai with their carry on backpacks.