Like many Ontarians this past weekend, I found myself reading the news in disbelief.
Five children gone in a horrific car crash near Guelph, Ontario.
A family shattered.
A community forever changed.
Before becoming a psychotherapist, I worked in journalism. I know how these stories unfold. First comes the breaking news. Then the updates. Then the interviews. Then the memorials.
But what happens after the cameras leave?
As a therapist, that is often where my work begins.
In the days following a tragedy like this or other kinds, people often ask some version of the same question: “How long will this take to heal?”
The honest answer is that grief doesn’t work that way.
What happened this weekend was not simply a loss. It was a traumatic loss. The difference matters.
When a death is sudden, violent, and completely unexpected, our minds are forced to process two realities at the same time. We are grieving the people who died while also trying to understand an event that makes no sense.
Trauma asks, “How could this happen?”
Grief asks, “How do I live without them?”
In traumatic losses, those questions become intertwined.
As a parent, one of the hardest things about hearing a story like this is that it touches our deepest assumptions about how life is supposed to work. We expect children to outlive their parents and grandparents. We expect birthdays, graduations, first jobs, weddings, and futures.
When children die, something feels profoundly out of order.
That doesn’t only affect the immediate family. It affects neighbours, teachers, classmates, coaches, first responders, and complete strangers who suddenly find themselves hugging their own children or other families a little tighter.
In the days following a major loss, many people look for signs that they are grieving “correctly.”
There is no such thing.
Some people will cry constantly. Others will feel numb. Some will talk endlessly. Others will become quiet. Children may appear devastated one moment and ask to play outside the next. Adults may find themselves functioning normally at work before suddenly breaking down in a grocery store aisle.
All of those reactions can be normal.
One of the biggest myths about grief is that it follows a predictable path. We love timelines. We love stages. We love stories that move from tragedy to recovery.
Real grief is rarely that tidy.
People often move back and forth between sadness, anger, disbelief, fear, guilt, gratitude, and even moments of joy. Sometimes all within the same day.
This is especially true in communities affected by tragedy.
A town may come together beautifully in the immediate aftermath. There may be vigils, fundraisers, and public support. But grief doesn’t disappear when public attention moves elsewhere.
Months from now, there will still be birthdays that aren’t celebrated. School events with empty seats. Holidays that feel different. Anniversaries that reopen wounds.
That isn’t failure.
That is grief doing what grief does.
When leaders talk about resilience, I understand the intention. Communities need hope. But resilience should never be confused with recovery on demand.
Resilience is not getting over something quickly.
Resilience is allowing ourselves to be changed by what happened while continuing to care for one another.
The people most affected by this tragedy do not need lessons about strength right now. They need permission to be heartbroken.
As a therapist, I often tell people that grief is not a problem to solve.
It is the natural consequence of loving someone whose absence now feels impossible to bear.
There is no finish line.
There is no timetable.
There is only the difficult and deeply human process of learning how to carry what cannot be fixed.
This community will never be exactly the same as it was before this weekend.
Neither will the families.
And perhaps the most compassionate thing we can do is stop asking when healing will be complete and instead ask how we can continue showing up for one another in the months and years ahead.
Are you dealing with a loss and finding it hard to cope? Grief and loss comes in many forms. And the right support isn’t always easy to find.
I offer free 15-minute consultations and provide in-person therapy for individuals, couples, and families with adult children in Hamilton, Ontario and online throughout Ontario.
Disclaimer: This blog is for educational and informational purposes only and is not a substitute for psychotherapy, medical advice, diagnosis, or mental health treatment.
* Following a consult: Because psychotherapy (and even the consult) is confidential, therapists are prevented from responding to public comments or reviews. If someone has concerns about an interaction with me and my practice, I encourage reaching out directly so concerns can be addressed respectfully and privately whenever possible.
Professional Endorsements and Verified Client Feedback are available on Luminos and Psychology Today
