07/10/2025
Coping With Grief As The Days Get Shorter
There’s something about the shifting of the seasons that tugs at grief in a way I can’t always describe.
Do you ever feel that way?
When the light fades earlier each evening and the mornings arrive with gray skies, it feels like grief seems to mirror the seasons, it grows heavier as the days grow darker.
In the brightness of summer, when the sun lingers long past dinner, there are distractions. There are warm breezes, a garden to tend to, birds singing, and the comforting hum of life outdoors.
But then when autumn steps in, when the air cools and the trees release the weight of their leaves, it makes you feel like you’re stripped down too. The silence of longer nights leaves more room for painful memories; more space to notice the absence of the person you miss the most.
I often find that grief isn’t just about anniversaries or birthdays; it can be woven into the seasons themselves. A certain scent in the air, the crunch of leaves under your feet, the muted sky at 5 p.m., all of it takes us back.
All our memories somehow feel sharper as the colder weather sets in. For some reason they seem to cut deeper when the days are short.
What makes this time harder is how the world itself contracts. The evenings come too quickly, leaving fewer hours of daylight to soften the sadness.
Here’s the thing…I’m learning to move with the seasons instead of resisting them.
I like to light candles when the sun disappears, reminding myself that even in the darkest moments, little flames matter. And sometimes, I just let myself cry because another year is coming to an end without the person I love beside me.
Grief doesn’t get easier just because time moves forward. In some ways, it grows louder in the silence of shorter days. But maybe the changing seasons also remind us that nothing stays still, not even sorrow. Each shift in light, each falling leaf carries both pain and the possibility of healing.
And so, as the nights stretch longer, maybe we just need to remind ourselves that grief isn’t just absence. It’s proof of love, proof that someone so deeply shaped our days.
And that even the change of seasons…can’t erase their presence.
Gary Stugis