A Mom’s Perspective
When my son lost his dad I had no idea what his grief would look like. I knew it would be very different from mine, but I didn’t know in what ways.
He was six. I was his mom. We were both heartbroken, but it showed up in completely different ways.
He didn’t cry a lot. He didn’t want to talk about it much either. Sometimes he’d bring up a memory like it had just happened. Other times, he’d get quiet if someone even said his dad’s name.
Meanwhile, I was dealing with complicated feelings — regret because I didn’t see it coming, anger, and relief. Yes, relief. I will talk about this more in a future blog, but when you have a complicated relationship with someone, the feelings you feel when they die don’t always align with what is socially acceptable.
There were times I worried I was doing it wrong.
Was I too emotional?
Was he not emotional enough?
Grief isn’t always obvious
But the more I learned, the more I realized: kids grieve in ways that aren’t always obvious.
Some ask a thousand questions. Some ask none.
Some act out. Others pull back.
Some do both, depending on the day.
What helped us the most weren’t big answers. It was small things:
Reading a story together. Drawing pictures. Leaving room for silence. Saying, “I don’t know,” and meaning it.
Those quiet moments eventually became the heart of the book I wrote for grieving kids, I’m Small But I Lost Someone Big — because I saw firsthand how much stories can hold when words are hard to find.
Grief can look different every time
Grief isn’t linear. Not for kids, and definitely not for parents.
If your child is grieving, try not to expect it to look like anything in particular.
They might not cry. They might laugh at the wrong moment.
They might need space — or just someone to sit with them quietly.
You don’t have to fix it.
Just stay close.
