When the Seasons Change and Grief Comes With It

There is something about a change in seasons that can make grief feel closer. The air shifts. The light changes. Familiar routines return. Certain smells, traditions, or temperatures may carry us back to another time—sometimes before we are even consciously aware of what we are remembering. A cool morning might remind you of the last autumn you spent with someone you loved. The first snowfall may bring back a particular holiday or season of loss. Even a beautiful day can stir something unexpected when you remember who is no longer here to experience it with you. Grief does not always arrive through an obvious anniversary. Sometimes, it enters quietly through the changing light.

When a Favorite Season Changes

Fall has always been my favorite time of year. The nights become cooler and cozier, and the leaves change, showing us a different kind of beauty after the warmth of summer. When I was a child, fall meant going apple picking, choosing pumpkins, taking hayrides, drinking hot apple cider, and pulling out our favorite sweaters and sweatshirts. My family would go to the fall fair in our town and take long drives to see the foliage. It was always such a meaningful time of year.

I remember my first fall after my parents died. There was so much beauty around me, but the sadness was real. At times, I felt both joy and grief, and I didn’t understand how I could hold them both at once. I missed my parents so much, while also feeling grateful that I could continue experiencing a season we had loved together and carry those memories with me. When I returned to the fall fair, I felt overwhelmed. Everything was so familiar, but it had also completely changed. I could picture my parents standing at the booth ordering apple crisp. I could see them waiting in line for fried clams. Their presence felt woven into all the familiar sights, sounds, and smells around me, and at the same time, their absence felt impossible to ignore. My heart ached as I realized I would never experience the fair with them again. Something that had once felt joyful and comforting had become emotionally loaded. The beauty was still there, but now it existed alongside a deep sense of loss. Even now, when the air begins to chill and the leaves start to change, I think of them. Fall still brings me joy, but it also carries longing. Part of my heart continues to ache for just one more fall with them.

Grief can make familiar seasons feel unfamiliar. It can allow beauty and pain, gratitude and longing, joy and sadness to exist in the same moment. Holding both does not mean we are grieving incorrectly. It means the people we lost, and the experiences we shared with them, still matter.

Grief Is Not Something You Have to Let Go Of

The changing seasons, especially autumn, often remind us of the need to let go. The trees release their leaves in a final display of beauty before moving into the stillness of winter. But grief is not something we need to release in the same way.

We often hear that we should “let go,” “move on,” or find closure after a loved one dies. But grief does not follow that kind of timeline. It may change shape, soften, or become less consuming over time, but it remains part of us. It is a reflection of the love we held so deeply, a love that no longer has the same physical place to go.

You do not have to let go of your grief in order to heal. Healing may instead mean learning how to carry it differently while continuing to live, love, and experience moments of beauty. If you find this time of year difficult, that is okay. If you feel joy and sadness at the same time, that is okay too. And if you feel misunderstood by people who believe you should be “over it” by now, please know that there is nothing wrong with you. Your grief does not have an expiration date. It is evidence that someone mattered, and continues to matter, to you.

Grief Does Not Follow a Calendar

We often expect grief to intensify around birthdays, holidays, or the anniversary of a death. Those dates can certainly be difficult, but grief is rarely that predictable. It may surface during the first warm day of spring, while packing away summer clothes, or when you notice the leaves beginning to change. Your body may remember a season before your mind connects it to a particular memory.

You might notice:

  • Feeling more tired or emotionally tender

  • A sense of heaviness that seems to come from nowhere

  • Difficulty concentrating

  • Irritability or restlessness

  • Changes in sleep or appetite

  • A desire to withdraw

  • Vivid memories or dreams

  • Feeling both comforted and saddened by seasonal traditions

These responses do not mean you are moving backward or failing at grief. Grief is not a straight line, and healing does not mean that you stop missing someone. The return of grief may simply mean that something meaningful has been touched.

The Body Remembers Seasons, Too

Grief is not only something we experience through our thoughts. It can also live in the body. The nervous system takes in details that we may not consciously notice, the temperature of the air, the angle of the sunlight, familiar sounds, or the way a particular season changes our daily rhythm. When those sensations return, the body may respond before we understand why.

You may notice tightness in your chest, a lump in your throat, heaviness in your limbs, or an unsettled feeling in your stomach. You might find yourself moving more slowly or feeling an urge to stay busy, so you do not have to feel what is underneath. There is nothing wrong with you when this happens. Your body may be responding to a memory, a loss, or a season that once held something important.

Rather than asking, “Why am I feeling this again?” you might gently wonder: What is this season bringing up for me? That small shift can create space for curiosity instead of judgment.

When Beauty and Grief Exist Together

One of the complicated parts of grief is that sorrow does not prevent us from noticing beauty. You may love the changing leaves and still dread the approach of the holidays. You may feel grateful for a crisp autumn morning and suddenly wish you could share it with the loved one you lost. You may laugh, connect with someone, or experience a moment of peace, and then feel sadness close behind it. Grief often holds emotions that seem contradictory. You can miss someone and continue building a meaningful life. You can feel joy without betraying your loss. You can be grateful for what remains while still aching for what is gone. Both can be true.

A Gentle Practice for Seasonal Grief

When grief feels overwhelming, you do not have to force yourself to process all of it at once. Sometimes the most supportive thing you can do is help your body connect with the present moment.

You might try this brief practice:

Begin by finding a position that feels supportive. You could sit, stand, lie down, or move around the room. There is no need to become completely still. If it feels comfortable, notice where your body is making contact with the surface beneath you. You might feel your feet against the floor, your back against a chair, or the weight of your body resting on the ground.

Allow your eyes to look around the space. Notice a few colors, shapes, or objects around you. There is no need to focus intensely. Simply let your eyes land wherever they naturally want to go. You might gently press your feet into the floor and then release. If you would like, repeat this a few times, noticing any sensations that arise. Perhaps place a hand somewhere on your body that feels neutral or supportive, your chest, abdomen, arm, or leg. You can also choose not to add touch. Without needing to change your breathing, notice one inhale and one exhale.

Then ask yourself: What do I need in this moment, not for the entire season, but just for right now? The answer might be rest, movement, space, connection, warmth, quiet, or something else entirely. You do not need to have a perfect answer. This practice is simply an invitation to listen.

Making Room for What This Season Holds

If you know that a particular season is difficult for you, it may help to approach it with intention rather than waiting until you feel overwhelmed.

That might look like:

  • Giving yourself permission to change or simplify traditions

  • Letting trusted people know that this time of year is tender

  • Setting boundaries around gatherings or commitments

  • Creating a ritual to acknowledge the person or life you are grieving

  • Spending time outside and noticing the season as it changes

  • Building in more rest

  • Seeking support before you reach a breaking point

There is no correct way to move through a season of grief. What feels comforting to one person may feel painful to another. Even your own needs may change from year to year. You are allowed to choose what feels most supportive now.

You Do Not Have to Rush Through It

Our culture often treats grief as something that should gradually disappear. But grief tends to change rather than simply end. It may soften, become less constant, or take on a different shape, and then return when a season, memory, or transition brushes against it. When it returns, you do not have to fight it or solve it. You may simply need to notice it, make room for it, and offer yourself more care.

If the changing season is bringing grief closer, allow yourself to move gently. You are not back at the beginning. You are meeting your loss from a new place in your life. And you do not have to meet it alone. I offer online grief and trauma therapy for adults throughout Colorado. My approach is warm, collaborative, trauma-informed, and attentive to the ways grief can be held in both the mind and body. I also offer grief-centered community support, seasonal workshops, and body-based practices for people seeking additional connection and care.

If you are wondering whether working together might be a good fit, you are welcome to schedule a free 15-minute consultation.

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