Summer is Coming
While it is technically still spring, the impending end of the school year and longer days remind us that summer will be here soon. Like in spring, grief can feel uncomfortably out of season in the summer. The bright and lengthening days, kids playing, and a general insistence on brightness and lightness can feel out of step with the heaviness of grief. It seems like summer nudges us to be happy and carefree; the expectation seems to be that we be outside, participating in fun, and consequently feel restored. The mood of summer and such expectations border on offensive when we are overwhelmed with grief.
Summer also feels like a season (more so than others) when we tend to remember our summers past. We seem prone to reminiscing about what we did or who we visited in prior summers. This may exacerbate a sense of grief as we revisit routines or events that had been staples of our summer like renting a certain beach house or going to July 4th fireworks in a particular town.
Maybe summer reminds us of the past so much because we strongly associate it with our childhood and carefree days away from school. Scents and textures also seem to play in outsized role in memories of summer as the heat intensifies them. So vivid is the feel of hot sand between your toes or walking barefoot on dewy, freshly cut grass. At the pool the scent of sunscreen and chlorine mingle in a particularly memorable way.
And yet, summer also offers a strange kind of companionship to grief. The season stretches time and grants us permission to linger and resist any sense of urgency. This type of quiet lingering and mulling is what we need to work through grief. The compulsion to stay busy and fill up every minute is often our culture’s means of suppressing grief. While summer weather may feel incongruent with grief and its sadness, the summer’s pace may be exactly what’s needed to allow for reflection and healing.
Writing Prompt: Write about experiencing grief during the summer. Begin with a vivid sensory scene: heat, light, sound, texture, or smell—something distinctly summery. Then introduce the presence of grief within that setting. You might focus on: (1) a specific summer memory involving the person you’ve lost or (2) a moment when the external world (celebration, vacation, nature, social gatherings) felt out of sync with your internal state or (3) the role of time in summer (long days, lingering evenings) and how those interact with your grief. Do they offer you relief or intensify the grief?


