I used to love spring. That first warm breeze. The way the light changes. The quiet promise in the air that everything is waking up again.

But the first spring after my son died? I hated it.

I remember standing outside, feeling the sun on my skin, watching the world stretch toward something new, and all I could think was, ‘How dare the world keep turning. How dare the trees bloom like nothing had happened. How dare the birds sing like everything was the same. How dare life move forward when mine had just shattered.’

Spring is supposed to be a season of renewal. A season of fresh starts. Of life coming back. But when you’re grieving, it feels like a betrayal.

Because you are not in bloom. You are still in winter. And the idea of “new beginnings” feels impossible when you’re still trying to make sense of what’s been lost.

But I’ve learned something in the years since. I learned that spring doesn’t ask you to be ready for it. It doesn’t demand that you match its timing.

It just arrives.

And even when you don’t think you’re ready, something inside you is.

Not for a perfect fresh start. Not to “move on.” But for the smallest, quietest shift. The first deep breath in months. The first time a little warmth reaches the frozen parts of you. The first moment – and it’s just a moment – where life doesn’t feel so heavy.

That’s all spring is. A season that whispers, whenever you’re ready, there is more life ahead of you.

Last week, so many of you hit reply and shared the ways grief has changed you, is changing you. I read every word. I sat with them. I felt the weight of your stories, the rawness, the truth in them.

Some of you spoke about losing someone. Some of you wrote about losing yourselves. Some of you shared losses that the world doesn’t see but that still ache, that still matter.

I want you to know that I see you. I felt every bit of what you shared. And if you’re still in winter right now, if you’re looking around at the world blooming and wondering when – or if – you’ll ever feel that way again, you’re not alone.

But think about what it might feel like to trust, just for a moment, that life isn’t finished with you yet.

Jonni

P.S. Maybe you’re not in grief right now. Maybe this spring does feel like a fresh start. If so, let that be enough. Let yourself feel the aliveness of this moment. Part of honouring life is knowing that seasons change, and not every one of them has to be heavy. If you’re in a season of renewal, lean into it. Life is meant to be lived, in all its cycles.