Seven years without her: Reflections on grief and life

On the eve of the 7 year anniversary of my mom's death...

To anyone who has lost a loved one: I feel your pain. The love we have for them only grows, so the pain never stops...you just learn to live with it.

My mom has missed out on so many things. She would be so proud of my kids...My son completing his first year of university, my daughter and her art, my youngest daughter and her singing... I hate that my mom isn't here for it all .

7 years on April 15th. How? How could she have been gone that long? I truly do remember all of the good and I certainly don't sit around feeling sorry for myself, but man! Today is rough.

Grief is something we all face. Whether we have lost a loved one, a job, a pet, gotten divorced...it all brings about grief. We will grieve these loses in perhaps different ways, but they bring about grief nonetheless.

I wish I could educate the entire world about grief. I wish everyone knew that it doesn't have a timeline, that grieving is unique and it is all ok, until it isn't.

Grief isn’t a phase that passes. It changes you. It reshapes how you see the world. Nothing feels the same after a great loss, and no one should expect it to.

I wish more people knew how to be with someone in grief. Not to fix them—because there’s no “fixing” grief—but to simply be there.

I wish we could talk more openly about death and grief. It’s the one thing none of us can avoid, yet we treat it like it’s taboo. Why? Why are we so afraid to talk about it?

Losing my mom was one of the most defining moments of my life. It’s why I want to help others in their own grief journeys. No one should walk through that kind of pain alone.

People forget that grief feels like the end of the world for the person experiencing it. The early days are a fog but it’s in the quiet weeks that follow—when everyone else has gone back to “normal”—that support is needed most.

Did you know that mealtimes can be some of the hardest for grieving people? Especially those who’ve lost a spouse. Something as simple as dinner can feel overwhelming.

We need to return to community—really show up for each other. Not just in crisis, but in the every day. We need each other. Let’s not forget that.

Today, instead of curling up in bed (though I’ll admit, that sounds tempting), I want to help even one person feel a little less alone. Sometimes, the smallest gesture can mean everything.

Join me in spreading a little kindness? I will spread kindness for my mom, Sharon Robinson. Gone, but never ever forgotten.