970x125
“Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” —Leonard Cohen
Grief is the shadow cast by love. It arrives uninvited, often when the flame of life dims or disappears altogether. In those moments, the world can feel unbearably dark. But even in the deepest night, a candle can be lit bringing a flicker of hope, a treasured memory, and a reminder of how to live fully, because of them.
This post is for those mourning loved ones who have died or are dying. For those feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or unsure how to support themselves or others. And for those whose grief is complicated by trauma, betrayal, or silence. Like the morning breaking after a long night, grief can be a beginning as much as an end.
Understanding Grief: A Natural Response to Loss
Grief is not a problem to be solved but a process to be lived. It encompasses sadness, numbness, anger, confusion, and even relief. It’s dynamic and non-linear, shaped by relationships, beliefs, and cultural rituals.
Most people are resilient. In one study, 68.2% of bereaved individuals showed little or no depression six months after loss (Maccallum et al., 2015). Yet for others, grief becomes prolonged or complicated especially when trauma or moral injury is involved.
Mourning Complex Relationships
Relational trauma can distort our ability to grieve. Childhood abuse, betrayal, or neglect may leave us mourning not just the person, but the safety, trust, and love we never received. Judith Herman and Janina Fisher describe how the body splits off parts of the self to survive unbearable emotions. Grieving such losses means integrating anger, sadness, and even indifference without shame.
“Human suffering is not caused by the pain of this world but by the avoidance of it.” Grief that turns to anger is understandable. But staying in anger can keep us stuck and being a compassionate witness to your suffering can be a bridge to healing.
Suicide Loss and the Ripple Effect
While every death carries its own weight, suicide presents a uniquely painful kind of grief—one that asks us to hold space for both sorrow and compassion. Research shows each suicide affects up to 135 people, in families, friendships, and communities. It’s not just the absence of a person, it’s the rupture of meaning, safety, and connection. Survivors may feel helpless, regretful, betrayed, confused, lost, or haunted by what couldn’t be repaired.
These feelings are valid. But when grief becomes overwhelming, it can evolve into complicated grief disrupting daily life and impairing healing.
Survivors of suicide loss often carry invisible burdens. The risk of depression, anxiety, PTSD, and even suicidal thoughts can be higher. Many also face financial strain, relationship challenges, and high-risk behaviours.
If this is your experience, please hear this: It is not your fault. You were a good friend, parent, partner, sibling. You loved. You showed up. You tried everything and this was never your choice. You were there for them.
Your healing matters. Your story matters. Reach out because support is available, and you are not alone.
Creative Expression: Making the Invisible Visible
Creativity can be a powerful companion in grief. It bridges intellect and emotion, making the invisible visible and offering hope in despair. Whether through music, poetry, walking in nature, cooking, or gardening, creative acts help us heal.
Picasso said, “Every child is an artist…” and Van Gogh reminded us, “If you hear a voice within you say ‘You cannot paint,’ then by all means paint.”
Listen to that quiet voice. What creative, courageous, or compassionate act might help tend your grief today?
Spirituality and Ritual as Coping
Spirituality can be both balm and burden. For some, rituals and beliefs offer comfort and connection. For others, they stir existential questions, guilt, or stigma. There’s no single path through this kind of grief. What matters most is that survivors are met with compassion, not judgment.
You don’t need answers to support someone. Just be willing to sit beside them, to listen, and to let them know they’re not alone. That presence—quiet, steady, and real—is worth more than gold.
“Being listened to is so close to being loved that most people cannot tell the difference,” David Augsburger once said.
Supporting Yourself and Others
Grief is deeply personal, but healing is possible. Try:
- Acknowledging all emotions: Use tools like the emotions wheel to name what you feel. “Name it to tame it” is a technique developed by Daniel Siegel that helps reduce intense negative emotions by engaging your pre-frontal cortex through simply naming what you feel, allowing you to process and regain control.
- Honouring the legacy: Share stories, plant a garden, dedicate your writing, or create something in their name.
- Seeking support: Talk to friends, join a group, or reach out to a professional.
- Practicing self-compassion: You are not what happened to you. You are brave, worthy, and healing. Compassion means moving to action by not just addressing the suffering of others but taking steps to help yourself.
- Embracing rituals: Rituals and shared memories are quiet companions in grief. Whether through singing familiar songs, storytelling, or symbolic acts, they help us face the reality of loss, honour the love that remains, and begin to heal
When Morning Breaks
Grief is not the end of the story. It’s the beginning of a new chapter shaped by memory, meaning, and resilience.
“Morning has broken like the first morning…” A song often sung at funerals reminds us that even in grief, morning will come. The light returns. And with it, the possibility of healing.
Even with unanswered questions, life is short and meant to be lived well. In their light, you rise. In their memory, you find strength. Transformed by their love, each morning that breaks becomes a quiet reminder that their living legacy still lights your way.