Letting Sadness Be Sad

Letting Sadness Be Sad

A friend on Facebook recently shared their sadness at the fact it’s been 9 years since their parent passed away.

They wished they could’ve shared all they’d accomplished in the past 9 years with the person they miss so much. My heart broke for them. Comments popped up quickly, and many of them were quick to note, “They would be so proud of you!” or “They’re proud of you, wherever they are!”

In the instant you sense a friend’s sadness and longing, I understand the urge to comfort them and tell them their lost loved one would be proud.

But the thing is, we don’t allow people to be sad in this culture.

We want to wipe it away and tell them everything’s OK, your loved one would be proud of you, happy for you. All due respect, and I know that it comes from a place of caring and love, but there are many moments it doesn’t help to hear those things.

It’s been just a little over a year since my mom passed away. The shock of it still sneaks up on me, taking my breath away with the stark realization she’s not been away on some temporary trip, about to walk into the front door once again and take off her shoes and watch Modern Family with me, laughing like lunatics together on the couch. I can’t imagine NINE years. Time will carry me forward whether I want it to or not, and nine years will come.

My mom would’ve been proud of me for getting through this past year.

I’m sure of it. But I will never get to hear her say the words again, I’ll never get to see the look on her face again, or see her excitement again. It’s a fact.

And I want to be sad about it, because it’s sad, and I have every right to feel that.

And I want to share those feelings – not to elicit sympathy from others, but only to share honestly and truthfully that I am sad; to say it out loud to the world, and to mourn her.

To miss her out loud.

In that moment, there is truly nothing that will make the sadness go away.

I miss her hearing her laugh, making her smile, and hearing the words from her own mouth, “I’m so proud of you. I love you.” I miss it, and I’m sad about it, and the only thing you can do if you truly want to send comfort is to acknowledge that it’s sad and sit with me in my sadness, if only for a moment.

You don’t have to stay there, but bear witness to it with me.

Nothing could be more welcome than that.


Katie Meyers

Katie writes, sings and creates her way through life from her home outside of Chicago, with the help and supervision of her two cats. Katie publishes on the Calming Creative website, to create a cozy corner of the internet where creative people like her can get together without judgement or pressure - and calmly create.
doodlestar fish
doodlecream snail

Don't be shy! I'd love to hear from you, if you feel like sharing a response to this post.


  1. Christina M on September 20, 2018 at 10:41 am

    I love this post. There is so much truth in it. I have a reached a point where I no longer regularly feel intense periods of grief about missing my dad. But I still have them, irregular as they may be, and have noticed those feelings of deep sadness and longing have become more frequent since Anthony was born because now it’s not just my life that my dad is missing/missing from. It makes me feel guilty for being sad about Anthony’s life when there is so much to celebrate…but at the same time I’m allowed to be sad about my dad missing that, and I shouldn’t feel guilty.

    I really just mean all this to say I love you and I get it. And I’m here for you <3

    • Katie Meyers on November 10, 2018 at 7:18 pm

      Love you so much <3 as much as the sadness hurts, it can also comfort...which I'm not saying right but I feel like you'll know what I'm trying to say <3