It really began with the death of my brother, Tom.  We had been incredibly close since early childhood and Tom’s death was devastating in a way that I was totally unprepared for. Up until then I had fit perfectly into my family (and cultural) norm of soldiering on and standing strong since public displays of openhearted grieving were frowned upon, even shamed from a very young age.

However, when Tom died my world was shattered in such a way that it was impossible to deny or suppress. My grief took on a life of its’ own. In a sense I was forced to reach out, since I had no understanding of what was happening other than I had no control over my feelings, my energy or lack of motivation. I could no longer will my grief away. 

I was scared and I reached out to others. It was awkward and embarrassing and hard work. And, as I grieved, my grief slowly changed shape. It became less threatening. There were bright days, enjoyable experiences. My relationship with grief began to transform, to soften, but also to influence my choices about what is most important. 

Grief never fully goes away. It has become part of who I am and how I honor those I love and have lost, starting with my brother. 

Since this personal experience (and many other losses), I have been privileged to companion and support dozens of grievers as their hearts too are broken open and their lives forever changed.