This morning, I came across this quote from Jameson Arasi:
Rabbi Earl Grollman dedicated his life to guiding others through the darkest moments of loss, offering wisdom and comfort to those grappling with grief.
Among his powerful writings, one quote stands out: “Grief is not a disorder, a disease or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity - the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.
Its simplicity is striking- deceptive, even because it holds everything a grieving heart needs to hear.
In three short sentences, Grollman captures the true weight of grief, dismantling the harmful misconceptions that it’s “something you get over” or a sign of failure.
Instead he reframes grief as something else entirely: a necessity.
Grief isn’t a flaw, and it isn’t weakness. It’s love in its purest, rawest form. It’s proof that someone mattered so deeply to us that their absence is unbearable.
When we grieve, we’re honoring the bond we shared, the love we still carry. The pain we feel isn’t a sign of something broken within us, it’s evidence of something beautiful that once was.
Grollman’s words also validate the overwhelming nature of grief. It’s not just emotional; its’s physical too, leaving us drained and exhausted. It’s spiritual, forcing us to wrestle with Life’s biggest questions. It touches every part of us, demanding to be felt.
But perhaps the most powerful part of this quote is the permission it gives us. To grieve fully, without shame or apology. To take our time, accepting that there are no shortcuts, no magical cure. And to allow ourselves to sit in the storm, knowing that grief isn’t a detour in life, it’s part of the path.
Because, at is core, grief is the price we pay for love - a painful price, yes, but also a sacred privilege. It’s proof of how deeply we’ve connected, how fiercely we cared, and how profoundly we loved.
In 24 days, we will observe the second anniversary of C’s passing. I miss him every moment of every day, now more than ever, but am oh so grateful for the “something beautiful that once was,” for almost 45 years. Actually it’s more like 50 years, we met in 1975 at the art department of KET, starting out a colleagues of a creative team, over time becoming good friends and, eventually, much more. It was a privilege I will hold dear for the rest of my life.