Fresh grief doesn’t need fixing. It needs room to breathe.
There is a moment—often right after the casseroles stop coming—when people start reaching for words they hope will help. Platitudes arrive dressed as comfort. God needed another angel. You’re young—you can have more children. You’re young—you can find someone else. These phrases may be well-intended, but in fresh grief they land like stones. They ask you to move on before your nervous system has even caught up with what happened. There’s a time to look forward to brighter days.
This is not that time.
