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Our prayers of support go out to the families and friends of the Humboldt Broncos Junior A Hockey team As a ministry/company we exist to help those who are grieving so at this time we want to offer our support in any way we can,  if you are someone who has been affected by this tragic loss please just give us a call and we will get you whatever you may need from our company.   Sincerely Grieving TogetherRead More

Grief Diaries is an amazing series of books which delve into the experiences of those who’ve suffered a loss. The series contains a number of book specific to various types of loss, such as Loss of a Spouse, Loss of a Child, Loss of a Parent, Loss by Suicide and many more. The books provide incredible insight to the grief journey from a first-hand perspective. A box of Kleenex is highly recommended when reading these books, as the stories are incredibly personal and touching. The books are a highly valuable bereavement tool as not only do they offer comfort and hope, but they are an all-important reminder that we do not walk this journey alone. A full list of the book titles can be found at www.griefdiaries.com. Many of the titles are also available on Amazon.com and Amazon.ca. Simply search under ‘grief diaries” and the list will come up. Julie Mjelve, co-founder of Grieving together,  has been blessed and honored to be a contributor to three of the books, Loss of a Spouse, Loss by Suicide and How to Help the Newly Bereaved. Whatever loss you have experienced in your life, all the Grief Diaries books aim to come alongside you and hold you up through your own personal journey.Read More

“What is in your heart?” she asks.… I remember my heart and my head three years ago while witnessing my beautiful husband wither, wrapped in the suffocating blanket of end-stage cancer.   The first line of C.S. Lewis’ A Grief Observed is “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear”. That was the first line, the only line, I could read and absorb from any book after Brad’s death. Understanding anything longer than a couple lines was like suddenly being expected to maneuver the uneven bars at the Olympics. It wasn’t happening and it continued not happening for months. At the six month mark I could read bits and pieces for my grief group, but even that required guidance from the facilitator. Just tell me what to do. That would’ve been easiest for me; if someone told me what to do I could then attempt to focus on being accountable to someone other than myself. No part of me, heart, head or body, was reliable. In the raw newness of widowhood I had to remind myself to inhale, exhale, repeat–never mind eat or pay bills or take out the garbage or read and comprehend something. I was C.S. Lewis-afraid and unable to move much beyond that fear without recoiling back into a whimpering ball. My heart was cold and inexplicably still beating. Outside, I was going through life’s motions, putting on the façade of ‘I’m OK’ to make others less awkward. I would’ve much rather screamed at everyone to “Shut Up” about their inane earthly problems, but habits kicked in and I was mostly “nice” those first months. Mostly nice: my malfunctioning social filter is another topic. Others already on this unwanted path told me to be kind and patient with myself. I tried to listen but their wordsRead More

Lately, I’ve been trying to be more of an observer of the never ending grief dance I’ve been forced to attend.   I’ve labelled this particular dance Hotel California – you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.  Sometimes I have just one partner, the strongest emotion prevails a while, but mostly it’s a group dance, more like a mosh pit.  I’m being thrashed around by emotions and partners I’m not always acquainted with but they just happened to see the Dancing Here signs on the door.  Bitterness has been a recurring partner for quite some time. He was invited by Hypocrisy, but new words and feelings have started to show up as well.  Late comers and wall flowers until now, Understanding and Forgiveness have been cutting in, backing Bitterness into a corner to wait patiently for another song. I used to use the word hypocrisy when referring to some people.  I would get so ticked off when they would say things like you have to keep his memory alive, cherish the good times you had with him.  These people were always well meaning, but in my mind, their well-intentioned responses became robotic clichés spoken only to make themselves feel better.  The hypocrisy thoughts came later when the same people would say you need to move on, you’re not “getting over” him, you need to stop talking about him so much and get on with your life.  Excuse me?  How do you fuse those contradictory thoughts?  I thought you can’t have it both ways, people.  You can’t tell me to keep his memory alive AND to stop talking about him because talking about him IS keeping his memory alive.  I thought that would be common sense, yet I would almost lose my ever-loving-mind when intelligent peopleRead More

I think there is something dignified and calming about rituals.  We humans like our ceremony.  Whether for celebration or mourning, our religions and belief systems are filled with them.   Recently, I’ve been finding solace in making ‘ritual’ more individual and mindful, which is bringing it closer to and healing my heart. Time is a human construct, yet as earthly creatures, we have to work within that construct.  When someone we love dies, certain days and times of year take on a heightening meaning.  Their or our birthdays, wedding anniversaries, special holidays–these days and the subsequent times of year change for us.  The person who made these days special is no longer physically present, which can confuse the whole celebratory aspect these times are supposed to represent.  Entirely different emotions and feelings of powerlessness occur on the anniversary of the day they died.  Studies show that actively planning something to do on these trigger days significantly helps those trying to process the loss.  http://www.hbs.edu/faculty/Publication%20Files/norton%20gino%202014_e44eb177-f8f4-4f0d-a458-625c1268b391.pdf A deliberate act of remembrance, whether part of a funeral service or a private time after that day, has been shown to be helpful and healthy well beyond the magnitude of the action. The feeling of loss of control can engulf our heads, blinding us to everything but how broken our hearts are.  Meanwhile, the outside world goes on seemingly unchanged.  Performing a small ceremony can have the power to bring us back to centre for a moment, allowing us some semblance of control at a time when even breathing no longer feels natural.  As we move further away from the actual death of our person, significant dates and seasons can sneak up on us, bringing us right back to the emotions of the day he or she died or adding to the overwhelming feelings of tryingRead More