Awe and Ache at the Grand Canyon

This week's Saturday Reflection centers on grief, memory, and the moments we still want to share

I just returned from a trip to Arizona that offered a much needed reset after a year that held both highs and moments that were harder to name. I hesitate to call them lows, because my mother’s unexpected passing in early 2024 sits in a category of its own. Personally and professionally, 2025 has already carried a lot.

During the trip, my husband and I took a day excursion to the Grand Canyon for the first time. When our guide pulled up to the first overlook and I stepped out of the vehicle, I was hit by an immediate wave of awe and ache. I wanted to cry.

As a person of faith, seeing that vastness in person was breathtaking. Pictures truly do not do it justice. It was majestic, beyond comprehension, and a reminder of the awe of creation itself.

The ache arrived just as quickly. My first reflex was to think about sharing that moment with my mom.

In another season, I would have taken photos for her or FaceTimed her so she could see it too. I would have imagined her asking questions, commenting on the pictures, and taking it all in. That absence landed hard.

I held it together. A few grounding breaths helped. I wasn’t surprised, but I was still taken aback. As we moved from overlook to overlook with our small group, I stayed present, but she stayed on my mind.

That night, I had a dream about her. It wasn’t clear when I woke up, but her image lingered. I miss having her to share moments like that with. At the same time, I realized how deeply grateful I am that we shared so many moments when we could. Those memories remain sweet, and I hold them closely.

It reminded me that grief happens in real time. You never know what will trigger it.

Sometimes, I find myself looking for her in nature.

A few months after she passed, I traveled abroad on a trip that had been planned before her unexpected passing, a trip I almost canceled. I found myself looking for her at the Mediterranean Sea. On my first Mother’s Day without her, I was in Charleston and looked for her there too.

I think I was looking for her here as well. All the way at the Grand Canyon.

Some days, it still feels unbelievable that she is gone. Other days, I simply want to share the moment.

All of it I truly know is okay. The awe and the ache, and everything in between.

Take good care friends as the New Year begins,
🖤 Carolyn’s daughter

P.S. Where have you felt both awe and ache?
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Tomorrow, I’ll share a brief note about the rhythm ahead for The Mourning Manager as we continue into the New Year, and a way you can register feedback to us on what you need most. If you missed the latest full issue, A New Year, Yet Not The Same You, you can access it here.