Grief in the summer.

Mackenzie Broomfield
Aug 13
3 min read

"Grief in the summer is different than grief in the winter. There are different aches, different reprieves, and different emotions to sort through along the way." ~ Liz Newman

There’s something strange about grieving in the summer. It doesn’t feel like the right time for sadness. The world is too loud, too alive - drenched in color, drenched in heat. The flowers are blooming, the sun insists on showing up, and people are making plans. Everything is growing, moving, celebrating. Meanwhile, you’re standing still, carrying something invisible.

Summer grief aches differently. It feels like trying to cry in the middle of a parade.

The Unbearable Brightness

In winter, grief has cover. You can wrap it in blankets, tuck it into the early dark, let it rest in the quiet. But in the summer, there’s no hiding. The days stretch on, hours longer than you remember. The sun is relentless, pressing into everything. And sometimes, it feels like it's pressing into you - exposing your grief when you wish it would let you stay in the shade.

You walk past strangers on patios laughing over drinks, hear music drifting from open windows, see families at the park under a sky that couldn’t be more blue. And you wonder - how can the world be so full of light when yours feels so dim?

This is one of the cruelties of summer grief: everything around you looks like joy. And joy, when you’re grieving, can feel like a language you have forgotten how to speak.

The Quiet Moments

Still, summer has its small mercies. There are warm nights when the world slows down. You might find yourself sitting outside long after the sun has set, listening to the hum of insects, the rustle of leaves. There is space in those moments - space to think, to remember, to feel.

Maybe you lie in the grass and let the sky hold your sadness. Maybe a sudden breeze reminds you of a moment long gone. Maybe, in the middle of your ache, you notice something beautiful - not because it takes the pain away, but because beauty and grief are so often neighbors.

Grieving Out of Season

There is no “right” time to grieve, but summer can make it feel like you’re doing it wrong. Like you’re supposed to be better by now. Like sunshine should be enough to pull you out of it.

But grief does not care about the weather. It does not dissolve in heat or disappear just because the world is moving forward. And it shouldn’t have to.

Grieving in the summer is a quiet kind of rebellion - choosing to feel deeply in a season that rewards distraction. It is remembering someone in a crowd of people who have forgotten. It is mourning while the world celebrates.

Grief in the Summer - Let It Be What It Is

If you’re carrying grief this summer, let it be what it is. Don’t rush it just because the world tells you to be okay. You are allowed to be sad on sunny days. You are allowed to need rest while others chase joy. You are allowed to feel the contrast deeply - because that contrast is real.

And in the moments when the world slows, when the light softens, when the wind brushes past your skin just right - you might feel something shift, if only slightly. Not a cure, not a resolution, but a small breath. A reminder: you are still here. And that matters.

Grief in the summer is not misplaced. It is simply another way the heart keeps time.