What happens when your world ends?

Explore a mother's profound journey through the unimaginable grief of child loss. This story of resilience, trauma, and healing highlights the messy reality of grief and the path to rediscovering purpose.

A Note Before We Begin: This story touches on difficult subjects, including the death of a child, suicidal ideation, and other sensitive topics. Please prioritize your well-being. If this content feels overwhelming, feel free to take a break or return to it later.

When faced with profound loss, society often rushes to find a silver lining. We hear phrases like, "You'll find purpose in this," or "You'll feel gratitude for this experience someday." For anyone navigating the raw, jagged edges of grief, this can feel like a slap in the face. Our internal response is often a resounding, "Fuck that."

The truth is, our culture's obsessive need to extract meaning from hardship often stems from a deep discomfort with simply holding space for another's pain. You are not doing anything wrong if you haven't found a grand purpose in your trauma—or if you never do.

In this moving two-part conversation, our guest, Carol, bravely shares her journey through the unimaginable: the loss of her only child, Tony. This is not just a story of sorrow, but a raw and honest exploration of the messy, nonlinear path of grief. It is a story of losing one's identity, battling addiction, and ultimately, finding a way to live again—not in spite of the pain, but alongside it.

• Why grief is a unique and deeply personal journey for everyone.
• The societal pressure to find meaning in loss and why it can be harmful.
• The critical role of connection and support during profound loss.
• How grief can fundamentally change your identity and sense of self.
• The life-saving power of finding small moments of accomplishment.
• That healing is an ongoing process, not a destination.
• How love, hope, and connection can coexist with the deepest grief.

Carol’s story begins with the immense pride and joy she felt as a mother. Her son, Tony, was her world. Having survived a traumatic childhood herself, she made a promise to him at birth: "I am going to keep you safe. I am going to create a childhood that I've never had."

That promise, and the world she had built, was shattered on an ordinary day. During a walk, nine-year-old Tony stumbled. What seemed like a child’s game quickly led to an urgent care visit and an MRI. The news was terminal. Stage four brain cancer. Two weeks to live without treatment, maybe four months with it.

"I just realized at that very moment, my life is changed forever."

In that instant, Carol’s world collapsed. The belief that being a good person protects you from tragedy was obliterated. The family chose to fight, holding onto the hope for a miracle as they navigated chemo, radiation, and the slow, heartbreaking decline of Tony's health. The final days were filled with an impossible choice: holding on for her own sake or letting him go for his. Lying by his side, she whispered the hardest words she would ever speak: "I'm going to be okay. You can go home now."

After Tony passed away, Carol’s life unraveled. The well-intentioned but hollow clichés from friends and family—"He's in a better place"—only deepened her isolation. The world kept moving, but hers had stopped.

"I lost my identity. I was a grieving mother."

Her grief was not pretty or linear. It was a consuming force that led to panic attacks, depression, and suicidal thoughts. Seeking help, she was medicated into a numbed state, a common but damaging response to a pain that society doesn't know how to handle. This led to a relapse into addiction, a desperate attempt to escape a pain that was still waiting for her underneath.

Grief had become her entire identity. The idea of "honoring" Tony by moving forward felt like a betrayal. To her, staying in the pain was the only way to stay connected to him.

Stripped of her son, her sobriety, her home, and her career, Carol hit rock bottom. The turning point came from an unexpected place. A friend showed up and demanded, "Get up, get dressed, we're out of here." His destination? A golf course.

Reluctantly, Carol went. On her very first swing, something incredible happened. She connected with the ball, sending it soaring to within inches of the cup. In that moment of pure, unexpected accomplishment, the crushing weight of her grief lifted, if only for a second.

Walking the serene course, she looked up and said the same words she’d said to Tony, but this time, she believed them: "Okay, Tony, I'm going to be okay." Golf didn't erase her pain, but it gave her a lifeline. It gave her a flicker of purpose and a connection to her son that felt spiritual and real.

That small victory on the golf course was the catalyst for monumental change. Carol made the difficult decision to leave Southern California, the place filled with so many painful memories, and move to the Pacific Northwest. This move opened the door to a new life: she met her future husband, built deep and meaningful friendships, and began to feel a sense of home again.

The healing was not without its challenges. The journey was punctuated by moments of profound connection and signs that she was on the right path, like discovering the Christmas tree lot that supported the exact rare cancer that took her son.

This new life wasn't about replacing what she lost, but about building something new from the rubble. She went back to school, earning her master's degree to become a therapist. Her pain became her purpose.

"I am a survivor, not a victim."

Today, Carol helps others navigate their own grief, bringing not just clinical knowledge but the deep, empathetic understanding of someone who has been through the fire. She knows that grief never truly leaves you, but it changes. It can coexist with love, joy, and a profound gratitude for life.

• There is No "Right" Way to Grieve: Your journey is your own. It will be messy, and that is perfectly okay.
• Healing is Not Linear: You do not simply "get over" a profound loss. You learn to carry it. The pain changes, evolves, and becomes a part of who you are.
• Seek Support: Whether it's therapy, a support group, a trusted friend, or even a pet, connection is vital. Do not isolate yourself.
• Allow Yourself to Feel: Numbing the pain only delays it. True healing requires walking through the darkness, not around it.
• Love and Grief Can Coexist: It is possible to find new love, new joy, and new purpose while still holding the memory and pain of your loss. One does not cancel out the other.
• Embrace Where You Are: Wherever you are in your grief journey is exactly where you need to be. Be gentle with yourself.

"Wherever you're at is okay."

Keywords: grief, trauma, child loss, healing, purpose, resilience, mental health, personal growth, connection, hope, loss of identity, gratitude, support, therapy, survivorship