We do live in a culture that promotes quick, fast and easy. We’ve come a long way with understanding emotions and relationships, but we lost sight of what grief looks like and the many forms it may come in.

I grieved my son for years, or maybe the parting of him and I being in two different countries. I couldn’t understand how a mother could love her son with her whole heart, take care of him and it not be enough in God’s eyes for me to have him with me; how my yarning for motherhood or the title “mummy” was somehow pushed aside in my life.

I know what it feels like to give parts of my life, lose a relationship, and be far from everything I know and love; I know what it feels like to grieve in life for people that are still here.

It took years to get a hold of my longing for my son, to see the brighter picture, but still, I hated someone asking me about him at times; I carried shame for not being the mother who lived in the same country as him.

Then came the grief from the relationship I held dear to me, the one I put every ounce of hope and faith into, the one that would have been the catalyst for my growth. But I remembered grieving that relationship, that man, as if he was dead.


I don’t know what it feels like to lose someone to death; I have grieved situations and people that had to leave my life, but not death.


“I am sorry for your loss” is the only thing I know to say to people when I hear they have lost a loved one; I try to remember if they believe in God because I don’t want to bring God into the situation if that will offend them.

I say the cliché things that are usually one sentence long with very few words.

I don’t know what to say when someone loses a loved one.

Recently my son lost his grandmother, and I had no idea how to respond or what to think.

I was sad at this loss for my son and ex-husband and for the role she played in our lives.

She played a vital role in my son’s life when I left Florida to migrate to Trinidad.

She was the one that showed him maternal love in my place.

As a mother, I want to console him, jump on the next flight hold him in my arms.

“Baby, I am so sorry, Grandma loves you very much, and I want to take all your pain away; I am so sorry, son, that you must go through this.”

I didn’t jump on a plane as I wanted, but I stayed home cried and prayed to God that his grief was not complicated for him, that it would help him on his life journey, and that he would be okay.

My heart ached for my son, but I didn’t know what to do or say.

I was at a loss for words when speaking to my ex-husband; the only emotion going through me was sadness, and the tears came without warning still; the only words that came out of my mouth were, “I am so sorry.”

I am not sure grieving people want to hear our words or even want the gestures we give them.

I can tell you one thing; I think about death a lot. It’s something I don’t tell many people. But I think about it all the time. I think about when I will die and how it will feel to lose someone else.

But it doesn’t matter how much you think about death; nothing prepares you for it. It’s one thing we are so sure of, but we are never ready.

Around this time of year, it’s hard for many people who are losing a loved one, grieving a loved one and saying goodbye for the last time.

I want to know more about how I can help someone like my son go through his grieving process after the loss of his grandmother.

I don’t expect death to be pain-free, and I don’t expect life to be pain-free, but as a mother, sister, daughter, aunt, friend and hopefully someday wife, I want to know how and what is the best way to show up for my loved ones that will one day be grieving.

This now brings me to the next book club pick.

I came out with it early, but this was done purposely or by divine timing. Someone may want to read sooner rather than wait for January 2023.

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