Grief. Most people hear that word and immediately think of death. While death is certainly one of the most profound losses we can experience, grief is so much bigger than that. Grief lives in the spaces between what was and what will never be again. It arrives when a relationship ends, when a friendship fades, when we move away from a place that once felt like home, or when life unfolds differently than we imagined it would. It shows up in the transition into motherhood or fatherhood, in the journey from being single to becoming part of a couple, and sometimes in the painful unraveling that comes with separation or divorce. It can be found in infertility, pregnancy loss, medical trauma, the loss of a career, the loss of health, or the loss of identity. Sometimes grief is tied to dreams that never came true. Other times, it is connected to the childhood we wish we had experienced or the future we thought was waiting for us.

The truth is that grief touches every single one of us. No one makes it through this human experience without loss finding them in some way. Yet despite how universal grief is, so many of us carry it quietly. Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that grief should be hidden. We learned to be strong, to keep moving forward, to avoid burdening others with our sadness. We learned that tears should be wiped away quickly and that healing should happen behind closed doors. But grief was never meant to be carried alone. It was never meant to be hidden. It was meant to be witnessed, honoured, and held with compassion.

I know this because grief has been one of my greatest teachers.

My journey with grief began far earlier than I could have understood at the time. At just four years old, I experienced the tragic loss of my very first friend. While I was too young to fully comprehend what had happened, I now recognize that loss left an imprint on my heart that would shape much of my life’s journey. As I grew older, grief continued to weave itself through my experiences. Friends from my childhood camp community bravely fought battles with cancer, and many of them did not survive. Each loss brought its own heartbreak, yet there was very little guidance available to help me understand the emotions I was carrying. Like so many people, I learned to keep moving forward. I learned to push through. I learned to carry my grief quietly because I didn’t know there was another way.

One of the most significant losses in my life was my beloved Nonna. She was the heart of our family—a beautiful Italian woman whose love could be felt in every meal she prepared, every hug she gave, and every gathering she created around her table. She embodied warmth, generosity, resilience, and unconditional love. Watching ALS slowly change someone so vibrant was one of the most heartbreaking experiences I have ever witnessed. It taught me that grief often begins long before someone leaves this world. Sometimes grief begins the moment we realize life is changing. Sometimes grief lives in the witnessing. Sometimes grief is loving someone deeply while knowing things will never be the same again. Through her journey, I learned that grief and love often walk hand in hand.

The loss of my father was equally profound, but in a very different way. Before he passed, we walked a spiritual path together that forever changed my life. He was one of the first people who truly encouraged me to trust my intuition and embrace the spiritual gifts I had spent years questioning. He helped me understand that there is more to this life than what we can see and touch. Losing him was devastating, but it was also deeply awakening. His passing expanded my understanding of connection, Spirit, and the ways love continues beyond physical form. While I miss him every day, I also carry his wisdom with me. He remains one of my greatest teachers, and his influence continues to guide me in both my personal life and the work I am called to do.

Not all grief arrives through death. Some of my deepest grief came through the endings that don’t come with funerals. I have grieved relationships that ended, friendships that changed, versions of myself I had to leave behind, and dreams I thought would unfold differently. I have experienced moments of questioning, confusion, and heartbreak that left me wondering why certain people or experiences had entered my life only to leave. Looking back now, I understand that every ending carried a lesson, even when I couldn’t see it at the time. Yet what made many of those experiences so difficult was not just the loss itself—it was feeling like I had to navigate it alone. No one had taught me that grief can show up as anxiety, anger, numbness, exhaustion, overwhelm, or even physical symptoms. No one had explained that grief is not linear, that it doesn’t follow rules, and that healing cannot be rushed.

Over time, my own healing journey led me toward practices that transformed the way I understood grief. Through Reiki, mediumship, meditation, trance work, art, ritual, ceremony, and deep spiritual connection, I began discovering new ways to process what I was carrying. I learned that healing doesn’t always happen through words. Sometimes healing happens through energy. Sometimes it happens through creativity. Sometimes it happens through silence and stillness. Sometimes it happens through connecting with Spirit, and sometimes it happens simply by sitting with someone who truly understands. These practices became sacred companions during some of the most difficult seasons of my life. They helped me reconnect with myself when grief left me feeling lost. They helped me find meaning when everything felt uncertain. Most importantly, they reminded me that even in our deepest losses, love remains present.

As I continued healing, I realized that what I needed most throughout my own journey was not someone to fix me. It wasn’t advice or solutions. It was support. It was community. It was having a safe place where my grief could exist without judgment. It was knowing that I didn’t have to carry everything alone. That realization eventually became the foundation for the work I feel called to do today. My heart’s desire is to create spaces where people feel seen, heard, supported, and safe enough to bring the parts of themselves they have been carrying in silence.

One of the greatest gifts this path has brought into my life has been connecting with incredible souls who share a similar calling. One of those people is Courtney from The Midnight Sun. Courtney carries her own profound story of loss, resilience, healing, and transformation. Her experiences have shaped the compassionate and intuitive space-holder she is today, and I am deeply honoured to be collaborating with her. Together, we began talking about what grief support could look like if it were rooted in authenticity, compassion, spirituality, and genuine human connection. We both recognized how many people are suffering quietly and how desperately many of us long for spaces where grief can be spoken about openly.

From those conversations, The Grief Garden was born. The Grief Garden is a sacred community space for people navigating loss in all of its forms. It is a place where grief is welcomed rather than avoided. A place where people can gather, share their stories, explore healing practices, and connect with others who understand. Through guided meditation, Reiki-inspired healing, intuitive connection, creativity, reflection, ritual, and meaningful conversation, we create opportunities for grief to be witnessed, expressed, and honoured. There is no expectation to have the right words. There is no pressure to be healed. There is simply an invitation to come exactly as you are.

We are honoured to be co-facilitating our first in-person Grief Garden gathering at Reflections Books & Wellness in Burnaby on June 18th https://www.eventbrite.com/e/the-grief-garden-tickets-1990825742387?aff=ebdssbdestsearch This gathering is an opportunity to come together in community and experience the power of being witnessed, supported, and held. For those who are unable to join us in person, we will also be offering bi-weekly online circles, creating an ongoing space for connection, healing, reflection, and support. Whether your grief is fresh or decades old, whether it stems from death, divorce, infertility, friendship loss, health challenges, life transitions, or dreams that never came to fruition, you are welcome here.

If there is one thing grief has taught me, it is this: we are not meant to walk through life’s hardest moments alone. Healing happens in connection. Healing happens in community. Healing happens when we feel safe enough to share our stories and discover that someone else understands. My hope is that The Grief Garden becomes a place where people remember that they are not broken, that their grief is not something to fix, and that there is no timeline they need to follow. Grief is simply love looking for somewhere to go.

If you are carrying loss of any kind, I want you to know that you are not alone. There is support available. There are people willing to walk beside you. There is space for your story, your tears, your questions, and your healing. And even after profound loss, even after heartbreak, even after life changes in ways we never expected, something beautiful can still grow.

With love,

Nancy