June has a way of sneaking up on parents like a tidal wave of endings. Dance recitals, soccer games, swimming lessons, final concerts, ceremonies — all the beautiful chaos of childhood chapters closing.
This year, one of those chapters cracked my heart wide open. My 13-year-old son graduated from elementary school. I thought I’d feel proud and maybe a touch sentimental. Instead, I found myself in the grocery store parking lot, in the rain, unable to stop the flood of tears.
Grief isn’t always reserved for tragic goodbyes. Sometimes it rushes in when life simply changes shape — when our children outgrow the smallness that tethered them so closely to us. The tiny socks are long gone, the giant cereal bowls and big dreams have arrived.
In the raw ache of this transition, I found myself asking What’s next? When one role, one version of life softens and dissolves, what new possibility quietly steps forward?
For me, the answer is art — again. Over the past week, I’ve painted cards for teachers and my kids, filled my sketchbook, browsed art classes online — even daydreamed about going back to art school, not for a degree, but for the delicious freedom of immersing myself fully in what I love.
This is what grief can do when we let it. When we surrender to its waves instead of resisting, it can carve out space for seeds of new beginnings. It reminds us there’s life to be lived beyond what we thought we’d hold onto forever.
If you’re standing at the threshold of your own ending — a season, a role, a dream you’ve outgrown — I hope you’ll stay soft enough to see what wants to bloom through the cracks.
Inside my Patreon, I go even deeper into this tender season of endings and beginnings in the brand new bonus episode waiting for you now — I’d love for you to hear it. Join my Patreon here
Leave a comment