There is a fear that lives quietly inside almost every grieving parent. It rarely gets said out loud, but it shapes so much of how we carry our grief.

If I let go of the pain, will I lose them too?

Caryn, Josh's mom, spent years living inside that fear before she finally understood something that changed everything for her.

Josh was Caryn's oldest son, a champion wrestler who came within reach of Olympic dreams, smart and witty and utterly fearless. A week and a half before he died in a motorcycle accident at 23, he told her three times that he was invincible. Caryn believes now that in some sense he was right. His soul was invincible. It was only his body that was not.

The accident happened just eight days after Caryn and her husband told their sons they were separating. It was, as she puts it, the year from hell. She remembers saying out loud to her friends that she did not think she could live through it.

But Caryn had tools most people do not. As a hypnotherapist of over twenty years, she understood the power of the subconscious mind, and in the days after Josh died, she leaned on every tool she had. She also began experiencing something she never expected. Messages from Josh in the middle of the night. An unearthly peace on her deck just days after his death. A spiritual awakening she did not see coming and, by her own admission, would have dismissed as woo-woo before.

What grew out of all of it was a hard-won understanding about the difference between holding on and letting go. For a long time, Caryn held Josh so tightly that she could feel him gently telling her it was time to let him run free, that he did not need her to hold on so tight anymore. Releasing that grip did not come easily. It felt, for a while, like losing him all over again. But what came after was lighter. Freer. And Josh was still there.

That is the heart of everything Caryn now teaches in her hypnotherapy practice and her grief retreats. Releasing the heavy emotions, the anger, the guilt, the haunting last images that will not leave you alone, does not mean releasing your child. Caryn believes, and I believe this too, that what keeps our children close is never the pain. It is the love. The pain is simply what we are afraid to put down.

Caryn now leads four day grief retreats in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, where she walks grieving parents through exactly this work. Her next retreat is coming up in July, and at the time of this release, there are still a few spots remaining if you feel called to it. You can find all the details at carynbird.com/retreat.

Whatever your path looks like, I hope this conversation reminds you of something important. You do not have to keep carrying the pain to keep them close. Your love already does that.