When today's guests, Andy and Kristen, lost their almost 2-year-old daughter due to complications after a seizure 2 years ago, their lives completely changed. There was life before Juniper died, and there was life after Juniper died. Before Juniper died, they had two young girls in daycare. Days after Juniper died, their older daughter, Macie, started public school, and Juniper was gone. There was no longer a need for a daycare.

They were suddenly navigating a world where they were bereaved parents. It was as if they were suddenly living in an alternative universe. Years before Juniper's death, Andy had watched his aunt and uncle mourn their son after he died in a car accident. Andy now realized that he didn't have a clue about what they had gone through - the pain that they felt each day.

Andy and Kristen found themselves looking to other bereaved parents for support. They joined their local Compassionate Friends chapter and became regular listeners of the podcast. I sometimes have doubts about continuing to produce the podcast each week. It is certainly a labor of love, but it does require a lot of work, and sometimes, when listener numbers falter or donations stop for several weeks at a time, I wonder if the time for the podcast has passed.

Then, I hear beautiful words like I heard today, and I realize that even though most of my guests have never spoken to each other, we have created a community of grievers. Before ending my conversation with Andy and Kristen today, Andy shared, "For all of the other parents who have been on the podcast and are now listening, we have cried for your children. We have mourned for your children because we know how it feels. We have heard them."

Kristen says that early on in their grief journey, they knew that someday, they would want to share Juniper's story on the podcast. Today, almost two years later, is that day. Now, Andy and Kristen can know that all around the world, other bereaved parents are truly hearing them. They are crying for Juniper and mourning her as well. And for me, that is all that truly matters.

I have often said that different people grieve differently. Today's guest, Lori, adds a new twist to that statement. She lost two of her four sons almost 30 years apart from each other, and she is grieving so much differently now than she did the first time around, showing that the same person can grieve similar losses differently as well.

The stories of Michael and Logan's deaths are far different. Michael died at age 2 of an aggressive type of cancer called neuroblastoma. He died after 9 months of treatment in his mother's arms at the hospital, which she says gave her time to say goodbye, but also forced her to watch him endure pain and suffering. Twenty-five-year-old Logan, on the other hand, died suddenly from an accidental drug overdose in his apartment. Logan was there one day and gone the next.

Lori says that after losing Michael, she became an extremely compassionate person. She and her husband turned to each other for support. Loris describes him as her rock. She was very involved in church, turning to her faith to help ease the intense pain of loss. Over the years, Lori says that her biggest fear was that she might lose another one of her three remaining boys, but despite Logan's long history of mental health struggles, she did not ever think this would happen to them again.

Then, 18 months ago, the unimaginable occurred - Logan died, too. After Michael died, compassion emerged. This time, however, fear and anger are the dominant emotions. She has trouble going out in public. Lori hasn't gone to church, and her faith feels broken. Her relationship with her husband has been damaged, and she has moved in with her two living sons, who are now her two rocks. Online support groups and podcasts have become her coping strategies.

These vastly different responses may seem surprising. I know they were unexpected to Lori, but there is a lesson here.

Grace. We need to give others and ourselves grace. We cannot control our feelings or our responses to grief. We need to feel our emotions, whatever they may be, and work through them. Through hard work, hope for the future may come again, for Lori and for us.

Livestreams with Gwen are back! This week's livestream topic was to be about the fact that we are living in two worlds - longing to live in the past while dealing with our messy lives in the present. I talk about my struggles of missing Andy while trying to be the happy mother-of-the-groom at Valeriano's recent wedding. This conversation quickly morphed into another topic.

Respite.

First, is it OK to take a break from your grief? And second - where do I find respite when I need a break from my grief? My answers - First - YES! And Second - walks outside in the sunshine, riding in our boat, listening to birds while on my deck, listening to music, reading a good book, and playing board games with family or friends.

The most important point is this. It is OK (and actually GOOD) to take a break from your grief. Many grieving parents feel like they need to feel their grief all the time. Every book they read is about grief. Every podcast they listen to is about grief. Days are filled with therapy and support groups. While all of these things are great, breaks are needed. Our bodies and minds cannot handle the constant pain of grief. I remember in those early days feeling like I needed to feel the pain constantly. If I started to laugh or even smile, I would remind myself that Andy was dead, and the smile would disappear.

As the seven-year anniversary approaches next week, I feel the heaviness begin to worsen again, but I have learned that the best way to get through these difficult days is to take some time away from the pain as well. I will have intentional times with my family to talk about and remember Andy. There is an upcoming 5K race where 25 of my co-workers will be wearing Be Still bracelets as they run to support our local FitKids program. But there will also be time for me to have respite. I will spend time reading a book and listening to birds outside on my deck. I will play golf and go boating. Hopefully, I will be able to convince my family to play a board game with me.

Finding this balance is what gives me the strength to continue on each day.