EPISODE 13 GRIEVING GREATLY What I've Learned About Love and Loss

Episode 13 | What I've Learned About Love and Loss

After eighteen years of living with the loss of my son Harry, I wanted to pause and reflect on what grief has taught me.

Not because I've "moved on."
 Not because the pain has disappeared.
 But because grief has changed the way I understand love, life, healing, and what it truly means to keep going after the unthinkable.

In this deeply personal episode of Grieving Greatly, I share the lessons I never wanted to learn—but the ones that have shaped who I am today.

In this episode we explore:
 • Why grief isn't something you "get over"
 • How love and grief are forever connected
 • Why joy and sadness can exist together
 • What the film Inside Out taught me about the purpose of sadness
• Continuing bonds and why our relationship with those we love never truly ends
• Finding hope and meaning while still carrying profound loss

Whether you're grieving the loss of a child, partner, parent, sibling, friend, or anyone deeply loved, I hope this conversation reminds you that your grief is not something to fix.

It is evidence that you loved greatly.

💛 If this episode speaks to you, please like, subscribe, and share it with someone who may need these words today.

Connect with me:
🌐 Harry's Helping Hands – Grief & Loss Counselling
🎙️ Grieving Greatly Podcast
📱 Follow for weekly grief support, education and hope.

If today's episode has brought up difficult emotions, please reach out for support.

Australia
• Lifeline – 13 11 14
• Grief Australia – 1800 642 066

Jen Connors 0431212575

#GrievingGreatly #GriefSupport #LoveAndLoss #ChildLoss #Bereavement #HealingAfterLoss #ContinuingBonds #MentalHealth #GriefJourney #Podcast #GriefAwareness #LifeAfterLoss

Transcript

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Grief changes you in ways you never expect. And over time it begins to teach you things lessons you never wanted lessons you never asked for lessons that often come at the highest possible cost. If I could have learned them another way, I would have every single time. But after losing Harry, these are some of the things grief has taught me about life, about love, and about what it means to keep going after the unthinkable. Hi and welcome back to Grieving Greatly. When I first started this podcast, I wanted to create something that I wished I'd had after Harry died. A place where grief could be spoken about honestly a place where people didn't have to pretend they were okay a place where loss wasn't rushed, fixed, minimized or explained away. Today feels different not because grief has ended grief never really ends, but because I want to pause and reflect on what eighteen years of loving and missing Harry has taught me. And perhaps some of those lessons might help you too. Losing Harry changed everything. And I don't just mean emotionally. It changed the way I see the world. The way I see people, the way I spend my time, the things I worry about, and the things I no longer worry about. Before grief there was a version of me that believed life was mostly predictable that if you worked hard enough, planned carefully enough, loved deeply enough, things would somehow be okay. Grief shattered that illusion because sometimes terrible things happen to good people. Sometimes there are no answers, no explanations, no reasons that make sense. And learning to live with that uncertainty has been one of grief's hardest lessons. I remember people telling me that one day this grief would make me stronger. And honestly, all I could think was I don't want to be stronger. I would rather be weak and still have Harry. Because when you're standing in the middle of that kind of pain, a strength doesn't feel like a gift. It feels like the price you've been forced to pay. One of the biggest things I've learned is that grief isn't something you get over. I spent years wondering when it would stop. When I'd finally reach the point where I wasn't grieving anymore. But grief isn't a problem to solve. It's not a mountain you eventually reach the top of. The grief changes the shape changes. The intensity changes. But the love remains. And because that love remains, the grief remains too. I've learned that grief and love are inseparable. We often talk about grief as if it's the enemy. Something that has happened to us, something that is stealing from us. But grief only exists because love existed first. The depth of your grief reflects the depth of your connection. And the pain hurts because the love mattered. The tears come because someone mattered. The ache exists because someone was deeply woven into your life. And when I began seeing grief as an expression of love rather than a sign that something was wrong, everything shifted. Grief taught me that control is often an illusion. There was a time when I thought if I worried enough, planned enough, prepared enough, I could somehow protect myself from pain. I remember reciting the same prayer every single night, the same words in the same order every time. Please protect my family. I would name each of them. Please take care of them. Please don't let anything happen to them. Looking back now I think I was trying to bargain with uncertainty, trying to convince myself that if I worried enough, if I prayed enough, if I prepared enough, somehow the people I loved would be safe. But grief taught me something incredibly difficult. Life doesn't make those promises. And strangely, that lesson eventually brought freedom. Because when you stop trying to control everything, you can start living more fully. You stop postponing joy. You stop waiting for perfect conditions. You stop putting life on hold until you feel safe enough to enjoy it. You start appreciating what is here right now. One of the most surprising lessons grief taught me is that joy and sadness can exist together. And for a long time I thought I had to choose. Either I was grieving or I was healing. Either I was sad or I was happy. But grief doesn't work like that. I've laughed and cried on the same day, sometimes in the same hour, sometimes in the same conversation. One lesson that always stayed with me comes from the movie Inside Out. For most of the story, sadness is treated like a problem. Something that gets in the way. Something that needs to be pushed aside so that joy can take over. And if we're honest, that's often how our society treats grief too. People want us to feel better, to stay positive, to move on, to find the silver lining. But what that movie beautifully shows is that sadness isn't the problem at all. Sadness is what allows us to connect. It's what tells other people we are hurting. It's what invites comfort, support, and understanding. There is a moment in the film where Riley is finally able to tell her parents how much she is struggling. And it is only when she allows herself to be sad that she receives the connection and comfort that she needs. I think grief teaches us something similar. Sadness isn't weakness, sadness isn't failure. Sadness isn't something to get rid of. Sadness is often love expressing itself. It is our heart acknowledging that something mattered and that someone mattered. And while sadness can be painful, it does also help us stay connected to ourselves, to others, and to the people we miss. One of the greatest lessons grief has taught me is that healing doesn't come from avoiding sadness. It comes from making space for it, listening to it, allowing it to sit beside us without constantly trying to push it away. Because sadness has a purpose. And sometimes the emotions we most want to escape are the very emotions that help us heal. Perhaps that's why I do love the message of inside out so much. It does remind us that emotions are not problems to eliminate. Not just sadness, but fear, anger, guilt, confusion and even joy. None of them are wrong, they are all part of being human. They are all part of loving someone deeply and learning how to carry that love after loss. And eventually I learned that feeling joy isn't betraying Harry. It's not leaving him behind. It's not forgetting. It's allowing myself to keep living. Grief teaches you a lot about people. Some people show up in ways you'll never forget. They sit beside you in the darkness. They don't try to fix you, they simply stay. Others disappear not because they're bad people, but because grief makes people uncomfortable. One of the hardest lessons I learned is that not everyone can walk this journey with you, and that's okay. The people who can become incredibly precious. Harry brought so much light into my life, his laughter, his kindness, his love for animals, his beautiful heart, the way he always wanted to be close by. There are moments now where I can still picture him so clearly a smile, a look, a memory that appears out of nowhere. And for a moment it feels like he's right there beside me. And while I would give anything to have him physically here, those parts of him didn't disappear when he died. They live in the stories I tell, the memories I share, the work I do, the people I help, the conversations I have, the love I continue to carry. In many ways Harry still shapes my life every single day. What remains is connection, what remains is love, what remains are memories that still matter. And over time I've learned that continuing bonds are not unhealthy, they are human. We don't stop being parents. We don't stop loving. We don't stop carrying people simply because they died. The relationship changes, but it doesn't disappear. If you're listening today and your grief feels unbearable, I want you to know something. The version of you that exists right now does not need to know how to survive the next year or the next month or even next week. You only need to survive today this hour this moment this breath. Grief asks very little of us sometimes, just the next breath, and sometimes that is enough. There is no moving on, but there is moving forward. There is learning to carry both love and loss together. There is building a life that still includes them. There is finding meaning while still missing them. There is laughing while still longing for them. There is living while still loving them. When I chose the name grieving greatly, it wasn't because grief is something to celebrate. It was because great grief usually follows great love. The people we grieve the most deeply are often the people who shaped us most profoundly. Grieving greatly doesn't mean you're broken. It doesn't mean you're weak, and it doesn't mean you're stuck. It means you loved greatly, and that love deserves honour. If there's one thing I want you to take from this episode, it's this Your grief is not something to fix. It's not evidence that you are failing. It is not proof that you're not coping. Your grief is evidence of love love that mattered love that still matters love that will always matter. This podcast was created for Harry because loving him changed my life, and losing him changed my life. But it is also for you, for every parent, every partner, every sibling, every friend, every person carrying a love that no longer has somewhere physical to land. Thank you for letting me walk beside you. Thank you for sharing your stories. Thank you for trusting me with your grief. Eighteen years ago I never imagined that losing Harry would one day lead me here. Speaking to grieving people around the world, sitting with others in their pain, helping people survive something I once believed I would never survive myself. If Harry's life has taught me anything, it's that love continues to ripple outward long after the person is gone. A life can end, but the impact of that life continues in memories, in stories, in relationships, in acts of kindness, in the people they changed. Harry changed me he always will. And perhaps one of the most beautiful things grief has taught me love doesn't end when a life ends. It simply changes form. Until next time, be gentle with yourself, keep breathing, keep loving, keep remembering because grief is not the end of love. It is one of the ways love continues for Harry and for every life deeply loved and deeply missed. And just a gentle reminder. If today brought up anything difficult, please reach out for support. You can contact Grief Australia on one eight hundred six four two zero double six or Lifeline Australia on one three double one one four or reach out to me directly on O four three one two one two five seven five. Thank you.