As August arrives, we find ourselves at the threshold between summer’s warmth and the quiet descent into fall. For those grieving, this time of transition can bring unexpected waves of emotion. The change in season may mirror the changes in our inner world—sometimes bright and full of life, other times heavy and uncertain.
Grief doesn’t follow a calendar. It doesn’t wait for the cooler air or the return to routine. It shows up unannounced—at the grocery store, during a late summer sunset, or in the silence of early morning. And just like the seasons, our grief evolves. What felt unbearable in spring may feel different now—not gone but changed.
August can be especially poignant for families with children heading back to school. Milestones—like a child entering a new grade without a parent or sibling, or an empty seat at the dinner table—can resurface our loss in new ways. There may be changes in our routine along with shifting roles and responsibilities as children return to school. Even those without school-age children may feel a quiet ache as summer’s energy fades.
This month, give yourself permission to notice what’s shifting in your grief. Are there new memories rising to the surface? Are there changes to our routine or responsibilities? Are you feeling more reflective, more tired, or more emotionally tender? These changes aren’t setbacks—they’re part of how grief moves through us, asking to be witnessed with care.
You don’t need to rush healing. You don’t need to “get back to normal” just because the world is moving on. It’s okay if your pace is slower, if you need more rest, or if joy feels distant right now. Grief is not something to fix; it’s something to carry—and carrying it with gentleness is an act of strength and resilience.
This August, try one small act of remembrance or self-compassion: write a letter to your loved one, take a quiet walk in their memory, or simply name aloud what you miss. Every act of acknowledgment is a step toward healing.
You are not alone in this season. Whether your grief is fresh or long-carried, we are here—walking beside you as summer fades and your story continues to unfold.
