The hardest part of grief isn't the big moments — it's the 7:45 a.m. ones
Nobody warns you about the school run.
After a loss, people expect the funeral to be hard. The empty chair at Christmas. The anniversary. And those are brutal.
But what caught me off guard was Tuesday at 7:45 a.m., standing in the kitchen trying to remember if the packed lunch needs a spoon or a fork, while my chest felt like it was full of wet concrete.
Grief doesn't pause for ordinary life. The washing still needs doing. The meeting still happens. The recital is still on Thursday. And most grief advice says "take time to process" — which is useful if you have time. Most parents don't.
So here's a framework I put into a short ebook, called "Small Steps, Present Self." It works like this:
Each day, choose three things:
→ One visible commitment. Something others will see you do. School pickup. A work call. Showing up to the shop. Not because you're fine, but because it gives the day an edge.
→ One private limit. The thing you're giving yourself quiet permission to skip, leave early, or do at 60%. No one needs to know.
→ One recovery point. A specific place or moment in the day where you can step out and come back. The car in the car park. The bathroom at the office. The five minutes after drop-off before you start the engine.
That's it. You're not trying to be productive. You're not trying to heal. You're just choosing what "showing up" looks like today — without pretending you're fine.
The ebook is free. It's called "Bereaved Parents Showing Up With Grief." It covers the first return to school pickup, what to cancel before 7 a.m., and how to set boundaries that no one else needs to see.
If you're in it right now — you don't need to judge the size or shape of your grief. You just need something you can use today.
