Broken and Blessed: Navigating the Duality of Grief and Love

Walking through life after losing a child means learning to live in a perpetual state of paradox. It is a daily, often exhausting tightrope walk where two completely opposing truths occupy the exact same space:
I am entirely broken, and yet I am deeply blessed.

If you are a bereaved parent, you know this feeling intimately. It’s the heavy, aching silence in the house contrasted with the bright, beautiful echoes of the memories you carry.

Recently, this exact duality was brought to the surface for me while listening to Wynonna Judd's powerful song "Broken and Blessed" from her album The Hard Truth. Music has a unique way of reaching into the quietest corners of our hearts and putting words to things we struggle to articulate ourselves. Hearing those lyrics resonated so deeply that it made me reflect entirely on my journey with my son, Nicky, and the ways we honor those we’ve lost.

Choosing to Celebrate Life

I was reminded of this when thinking back to Nicky’s eulogy. Standing up to speak about my son, my initial instinct was to talk about his last week on earth—the raw, painful medical reality of his final days. But right there in front of everyone, I made a pivot.

I chose instead to talk about his life.

I knew in my heart that he was a blessing. I miss my Nicky so much it takes my breath away, but I will always, always be grateful and humbled that I was given the gift of someone so wonderful to love. The pain of his absence is heavy, but the privilege of being his mom eclipses everything else.

Finding Our Own Way to Grieve

That need to honor our children is also why I do my Throwback Thursday posts every single week. Sharing pictures and memories puts a genuine smile on my face, even though tears are often right behind them. It’s a way of keeping his light alive in a world that keeps moving too fast.

At the same time, grief teaches us deep patience—not just with ourselves, but with our partners and families. Nicky’s dad grieves completely differently than I do; he prefers not to dwell on the memories or look back at the past, and that is okay. There is no right or wrong handbook for this. We have to give each other the grace to grieve in whatever way helps us survive and function day by day.

The Different Faces of Loss

Of course, loss wears many different faces, and the journey changes depending on how it finds us. My experience with pregnancy loss taught me another quiet kind of sorrow. With those losses, I never got to build earthly memories, hold physical milestones, or look back at photographs.

Yet, looking back on those pregnancies, no one can ever take away how happy I was while carrying them. Those moments of pure, unbridled joy were a blessing too—an invisible bond that mattered deeply, even if it ended far too soon.

Let’s Talk About It

Navigating the space between brokenness and blessing is heavy work, but we don't have to do it in isolation.

I dive deeper into this topic in this week's video for the Bereaved Mom Tip of the Week. You can watch the full conversation right here:

👉 Watch the YouTube video here: Broken and Blessed | Bereaved Mom Tip of the Week

How do you manage the duality of grief and gratitude in your own journey? Are you and your partner able to sync up, or do you find yourselves grieving in entirely different ways? Let's talk about it in the comments below or over on the video. 🤍