Grief & Grace - Grief in the Quiet Moments
- Sherrie Andrews-Heavey
- Oct 9
- 3 min read

Grief doesn’t always come crashing in like a storm. Sometimes, it arrives quietly—slipping into the stillness between heartbeats, in the soft hum of morning, or when the house finally falls silent at night. These are the moments that catch us off guard. The quiet ones.
When the world has moved on, and life asks us to keep going, it’s in the stillness that the ache returns—subtle, familiar, and deep. Maybe it’s the smell of rain, a certain song, or an empty chair that stirs the memory. These quiet spaces can feel both tender and unbearable, but they are also sacred. They are where love continues to whisper.
For a long time, I didn’t know how to sit with those whispers. I numbed myself to survive—telling myself “I don’t do feelings.” It was the only way I knew how to manage the day-to-day without falling apart. But the truth is, grief is patient. If we don’t make space for it, it will wait quietly—beneath the surface—until the heart can no longer hold it back.
When I began to notice myself reacting in ways that didn’t make sense—feeling too much, or feeling nothing at all—I realized that buried grief had found its way out. It was asking to be seen. It was asking to be healed.
Processing grief isn’t about “getting over it.” It’s about giving love a voice again. It’s about creating space for the parts of you that were silenced when the pain felt too heavy. It’s hard, sacred work—but it’s also the path home to yourself.
✨ Grief in the quiet moments isn’t asking us to be strong—it’s inviting us to listen. To honor what was, to allow what is, and to trust that love never leaves us. Even in the quiet, it remains.
🌾 Heart Reflection
When we stop running from the silence, we begin to hear the language of love more clearly. The quiet doesn’t erase the pain—it reminds us that love is still here, patiently waiting to be felt.
If you’ve been living numb, know that it was your body’s way of protecting you. But now, as your heart begins to thaw, each feeling that surfaces is a step toward wholeness. You are not breaking down—you are breaking open.
🕯️ Journal Prompt
Have there been times when you tried not to “do feelings”?
What emotions or memories might still be waiting quietly for you to acknowledge them?
Write with honesty and compassion—no judgment, just curiosity. Let your grief speak, and listen for love’s quiet reply.
🌼 A Closing Reflection
When I look back now, I often wish I had something like this—a gentle guide to help me process my pain instead of carrying it in silence. For years, I lived numb, thinking it was the only way to survive. But grief doesn’t disappear when we ignore it; it waits, patiently, until we are ready to listen.
If I had known then what I know now, I would have given myself permission to feel—to honor my love through the ache. Because in time, and through a lot of soul work, I found that even grief can be alchemized into something sacred. That transformation… is grace.
If you’re walking through your own quiet season of grief, I invite you to explore the Grief & Grace Workbooks—gentle companions designed to help you process your emotions, reflect, and rediscover light in your own time and way.
And when you feel ready for deeper guidance or someone to walk beside you, my Grief Support Sessions are here—created from lived experience, heartfelt understanding, and a deep belief that healing can coexist with love.
🌿 You don’t have to journey alone. Even in the quiet, grace is waiting to meet you.



Comments