The moving on myth

Don’t let anyone dictate how much you should cry or when you should stop. Allow yourself to grieve as needed. Share your experience, talk about your loved one—this is often easier for women, while men may tend to bottle up their emotions. But unlocking those feelings is essential. Do what works for you. Ignore the well-meaning advice to “move on.” Only those who have experienced similar loss can truly understand. I sought out others who had lost children, finding solace in their stories and the knowledge that if they could survive, so could I.Don’t let anyone dictate how much you should cry or when you should stop.   

Nothing is more difficult than the death of a child.  Nothing is as painful as watching your child suffer. The thought that circumstances made it impossible for you to protect your child and he or she is gone and you cannot stop it .  You feel guilty, helpless, useless and worthless that you can no longer protect your child.  You even feel like swapping places with him or her. When the unthinkable happens, you ask WHY?  The unanswerable question. You will find that nothing makes sense. It is all so surreal. In preparing for the 

funeral, you  go through the motions like a zombie on autopilot. You will  constantly be asking Why?  There are no answers to that question and you will keep 

asking it until you are strong enough to realise that there are no answers. The challenge is acceptance.

Helping others is therapeutic. Reach out to people you know, family and friends who have lost loved ones to share your experiences and assuring them that in time they can learn to live with the pain and using  your 

experience as an example to guide them, to muster the courage, strength, resilience and patience to go through this safe in the knowledge that you can survive.

The Early Years of Grief

In the initial stages of grief, many experience a tidal wave of emotions that are difficult to make sense of. It’s a time when the mind feels fragmented, and fear takes on many forms. You may feel like you’re losing control—but you are not alone.

Here are some common, but often unspoken, experiences in the early years of grief:
• Fear of Dying:
The pain feels so unbearable that you worry it might literally consume you and kill you. At times, death doesn’t seem frightening—it feels like a release. But deep down, you recognise this is the voice of despair, not of peace. It is escapism!
• Fear of Going Mad:
Your thoughts are chaotic. You feel like your mind is unraveling. You cry and laugh within moments of each other. You speak aloud to someone who isn’t there, and wonder if you’re losing your grip on reality.
• Unrealistic Fantasies:
• Calling out their name and expecting a reply
• Turning off the lights, hoping they’ll appear from the darkness
• Convincing yourself that they’re just away, not gone
These are not signs of mental instability, but deeply human attempts to cope with devastating loss.
• Feeling Suicidal:
There may be moments when ending it all feels like the only way to stop the suffering. But over time, you begin to understand that this impulse is not truly about wanting to die—it’s about wanting the pain to end.
• Isolation in Emotion:
You believe no one could possibly understand what you’re going through. But these experiences, though deeply personal, are shared by many grieving souls. It’s not unique to you. 

What You Need to Know:

These emotions and behaviours, as overwhelming as they are, are part of the grieving process. They do not mean you are broken. You are responding to unimaginable loss in the only way a heart can—messily, painfully, and with honesty.

Give yourself grace. Allow yourself space. And remember, you are not alone in the darkness. Others have walked through it—and in time, so will you.

Guilt

One of the most agonizing aspects of grief is guilt—the relentless if onlys. You find yourself tormented by the thought that you didn’t do enough, didn’t say enough...moments that sneak up on you: small 

decisions you once thought nothing of but now carry unbearable weight. 

Grief turns memory into a battlefield. You comb through every moment with cruel precision, convinced that a different decision might have changed the outcome.

Eventually, you have to arrive at the painful truth: you cannot go back and rewrite the past. You have to forgive yourself. You have to believe that your loved one would not hold you responsible.

So much of guilt is self-created—and the more you pull at the threads, the more entangled you become.That’s what grief does to you. It imprisons you in guilt. Joy becomes suspect. How can you enjoy a meal? How can you laugh, or dance, or find peace.

Guilt gives way to so much anger and blame—at 

yourself, at others, and if you believe, even God. You become angry that people didn’t do more. That 

doctors didn’t find a cure...family and friends don't 

understand the depth of your pain...but in time you will begin to understand that love and sorrow can 

coexist. Moving on is not betrayal—it’s survival.

Grief never fully leaves you, but it does change shape. At first, it is all-consuming. Later, it walks beside you. It becomes the quiet ache you carry alongside joy, love, and purpose. 

Moving on is not leaving behind.
It is carrying forward.
It is choosing to live, even with a broken heart.
It is finding beauty in the ruins,
Hope in the silence,
And love that endures beyond the grave.

Because love—real love—never ends.
It simply changes form
And walks with us into tomorrow