This past week, my son lost his beloved dog, Koda. She was only seven years old, but in those seven years she had become so much more than a pet, she was his companion through the storms of life. She sat with him through the pain of his parents’ divorce, the ache of a first heartbreak, and even the lonely isolation of COVID. In many ways, Koda was his quiet support dog, offering the unconditional love only God’s creatures seem able to give.
When she passed, my grown son, almost twenty-five years old, called me, weeping. He called his grandmother at two in the morning because he simply needed to be heard. For a week, I called him every morning, and he would call me randomly throughout the day, tears still fresh. Each conversation reminded me that grief takes many forms. It is not confined by age, nor by circumstance. And as parents, our hearts still ache to take away the pain, but sometimes, all we can do is be present.
We often think that once our children are grown, they no longer “need” us in the same way. But love, especially the love between a parent and child, never expires, it only matures. Our role changes, but it doesn’t end. We can no longer fix every wound or bandage every scraped knee, but we can listen, comfort, and remind them they are not alone.
In these moments, I am reminded of Mary standing at the foot of the Cross. She could not stop her Son’s suffering, but she was there, faithful, steadfast, and present. That is the sacred call of parenthood at every stage: to show up, to love without condition, and to trust that God will do the healing.
So when our grown children reach out in their moments of loss, may we just show up and respond with gentleness and grace. Sometimes, the holiest thing we can do is simply to be there, heart open, hands folded in prayer, trusting that God’s mercy will meet them right where they are.
