Here we are in the midst of summertime. The days are long, the sun is shining, and there is a strong desire to enjoy the long days and the chance to take a much-needed vacation. Even though in Phoenix, the weather is so terribly hot, we still see families packing for vacations, friends gathering around pools and patios, and social media lighting up with smiling faces and summer adventures.
But what happens when your world has been turned upside down by loss?
For those of us who are grieving, especially after a traumatic loss like suicide or substance mis-use, summer doesn’t always feel like a season of joy. In fact, the brightness of it all can feel unbearable. It’s not just the absence of your loved one, it’s the way the rest of the world seems to have moved on, while you’re still learning how to breathe again.
A Season of Contradictions
After I lost my son Eric, I remember that first summer so vividly. I would walk outside and see sunlight pouring down and feel this deep disconnect—like the whole world was enjoying the summer, while I was sitting on a rocker letting the sun shine on my face in the hope of letting some light into what had just happened. The contrast was excruciating.
Grief is disorienting on its own. But in a season built around family traditions, travel, birthdays, and “making memories,” that grief can feel even more magnified. The ache of your person not being there is constant. A summer song, a barbecue, or even the smell of sunscreen can trigger a memory that brings you to your knees.
And people, bless them, don’t always know what to say. You might hear, “You should get out and enjoy the sunshine,” or “Try to have fun, it’s summer!” I know they mean well. But when your heart is shattered, those words can feel like salt in a wound.
It’s Okay Not to Be Okay
Here’s something I want you to know, from one grieving soul to another: It’s okay if you’re not okay this summer. You don’t have to smile for anyone. You don’t have to accept every invitation. You don’t have to enjoy the season. You are allowed to feel what you feel.
Grief doesn’t follow the calendar. It doesn’t take a break in June or pause in July. And while the world outside might look warm and festive, your inner world may still be frozen in sorrow. That’s part of the journey.
Finding Gentle Ways to Cope
While there’s no “fixing” grief, there are ways to care for your heart during these sunlit months:
Start small.
Sometimes just stepping outside in the early morning, feeling the breeze, or sitting with your coffee in silence can bring a tiny moment of peace.
Honor your person.
Light a candle. Make their favorite summer dish. Write them a letter. Invite them into the season in your own way.
Be around people who “get it.”
You don’t need to explain your pain to those who have walked similar paths. Safe, understanding community, like we try to offer at EricsHouse, is so important.
Protect your energy.
You have every right to step away from things that feel too heavy. You’re not being antisocial—you’re being self-honoring.
Let grace in.
If you do laugh, smile, or feel a moment of joy, don’t feel guilty. Your heart can hold both sorrow and light at the same time.
A Quiet Kind of Healing
You are not alone. Whether this is your first summer after loss or your fifth, your grief still matters. And so does your healing. Don’t rush it. Don’t fake it. Just be where you are.
I’ll be there too—in the tension between missing and remembering, between hurting and hoping, between the light of summer and the shadow of grief.
We walk it together.

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