Love Grows Through the Cracks of Grief

Letting Go Plants Seeds of Hope

Thank you for joining me in The Pause Place. Holding space for you in grief, feelings of loss, and your journey toward hope.

For more on my story, read The Pause Place.

Oak tree in my backyard (Photo by author)

As the leaves fall away, the trees reveal what lies underneath. They bare their branches in order to grow and flourish. 

Fall begins the process of baring our souls to the realities of Life’s cycles. 

During the month of October, I feel as naked and vulnerable as the trees because all my layers fall away. October holds all that I love and all that broke me down into the tiniest seed. 

Like hundreds of acorns, my heart fell to the ground in pieces. Falling under the weight of grief. Becoming compost and food for the earth.

No tree ever grows the same leaves and so I would never be the same after losing my son. But that didn’t mean that my life or my heart wouldn’t be as full as glorious as it used to be. It just would be different. 

Please know that it has taken me years to even be able to write this and believe the words. Grief is a personal process and everyone’s journey varies.

I had to fall away in order to regrow my life. 

Photo by author

Nature and the natural order of the world teaches us so much. That even in the darkest loss, when every leaf has been stripped and there seems like no life is left, our roots still connect to the pulse of our soul and why we’re here. The contract we signed. The commitment we made to ourselves and others. 

But we have to shed that grief, not hold onto it in order to listen to what our soul wishes for us to remember. 

For a long time, I didn’t know who I was without my grief or pain. Before that I knew who I was. Or at least I thought I did.

Who was I without this loss, without my son?

So I held onto my grief. I held onto the pieces that stagnated the life in me. I couldn’t let go so I didn’t flourish.

It was like I kept myself in a constant state of hibernation, wrapped in my burlap sack, protecting myself from all the elements of my loss. But I was destroying myself from the inside out. 

I longed for the sun even as I longed for my son. 

How could I wish for light when one of the lights of my life was gone? 

I struggled with letting go and holding on until I had to open myself up or wilt into nothing. 

The hurt part of me felt that if I held onto my grief, then that would keep my son closer to me. 

Then something miraculous happened.

Where that acorn piece of my heart was buried, life began to grow again. Letting go of grief made room for the beautiful part of the love my son and I shared. 

When I remembered who I was and why Nick chose me to be his mom on Earth and in Spirit, I connected with him in new ways.  

Where my tears saturated the ground, joy bloomed in abundance. Expressing my sadness opened reservoirs of possibilities. Instead of being stuck, I branched out. 

When the buds of my heart opened, love unfurled its petals and began anew. 

By releasing the hurt parts of me, hope grew because love was the first seed planted. 

Love grows wherever the heart stays open.

Hope grows through the cracks (photo by author)

I’m holding space for you for whatever feels too heavy to carry.

Let’s Connect: Always happy to hear from you. Feel free to share stories or how this resonates. All thoughts are welcome.

Subscribe for free to receive Janine’s Journal Jam, Dream Travel, and The Pause Place articles and stories. 

If you find joy in what you read and feel it’s meaningful, consider becoming a paid subscriber. Your paid subscription supports my full-time writing and teaching passion.