When Grief Finds Familiar Company

When Grief Finds Familiar Company This weekend, we hosted some of Idris’ old college friends who had come in from Dallas for a reunion here in Chicago. We’d met them once before—last year in Anaheim—under circumstances that instantly bonded us. Like us, they too had lost their child. Their son passed away two years ago, a gentle soul who, struggled with mental illness. It’s heartbreaking how grief can become a bridge between strangers. We sat together and talked, mostly about the children we’ve lost. And although our stories are different in their details, the pain, the weight, the helplessness—it all felt so achingly familiar. There’s a strange, indescribable comfort in sharing space with someone who truly understands what it means to wake up every day with a hole in your heart. No need to explain the silence. No need to pretend. No need to wrap our grief in polite conversation. Their son was bright, introspective, kind. So many traits that reminded us of Sana. We imagined them together, watching over us, perhaps even exchanging stories of their own, free from pain and struggle in a space where they are whole again. As parents, we never imagined this is how life would turn out. But sitting there, across from people who have walked this same devastating path, I realized how rare and necessary these connections are. The world can feel isolating when you’re grieving a child. But when someone looks into your eyes and you both just know… that’s a moment of grace. Grief doesn’t vanish. But sharing it—especially with those who carry a similar burden—somehow makes it more bearable. Maybe that’s the quiet gift our children leave us: the ability to find each other in the ruins, and to walk this road not entirely alone. In memory of Sana and all the beautiful souls taken too soon.