There are losses that unfold slowly, without a clear moment of goodbye. You wake up one day and realize that the person sitting across from you — the one you’ve known for years, maybe decades — has changed. Not gone, but different. Illness has a way of rearranging lives like that. It takes pieces of the person you love, sometimes gently, sometimes all at once, until the familiar rhythms of your connection no longer sound the same.

We often think of grief only in terms of death. But what about the loss that’s steeped in separation, absence, and invisible walls? The incarceration of someone close — whether a family member, partner, or friend — can stir a grief as real and deep as any other. It’s a non-death loss that deserves acknowledgment, care, and compassion.

Redefining yourself after loss isn’t about “moving on.” It’s about discovering how to live within a changed world while honoring what has been lost. It’s a process of becoming—one that unfolds slowly, unevenly, but meaningfully.

Grief doesn’t always begin with death. Sometimes, it starts the moment someone you love begins to slip away — not physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Addiction creates a unique kind of absence. The person is still here, yet not quite reachable. The connection you once knew changes, sometimes slowly, sometimes all at once. This is a form of grief few people talk about, yet it’s one that many quietly endure.

I am thrilled to announce my new location in the City Park area of Saskatoon. This heritage home hosts a collective of health practitioners: family therapists, child and youth specialists, yoga and breathwork instructors. I will add my expertise in grief and trauma and feel privileged to join this group of highly qualified professionals.

I will meet clients three days a week ( Wednesday, Thursday, and Fridays) at 716 Queen Street. 2 hour street parking is available for your convenience.

When someone we care about is grieving, it can leave us feeling helpless. We want to fix it, make it better, take away their pain—but grief isn’t something that can be fixed. It’s something that must be lived through, in all its painful complexity. And if you’re reading this, you’re probably someone who wants to show up well for a friend or family member who’s grieving. That’s a beautiful intention.

As a motherless mother, it’s essential to cultivate a network of supportive individuals who can provide guidance, encouragement, and practical help. This network might include trusted friends, family members, or even mentors who can offer advice when needed.

Consider the following strategies for building your support system:

• Identify Your Tribe: Surround yourself with people who uplift you, whether they are friends who have children or older women who can serve as maternal figures.

Motherhood is a life-changing experience, filled with moments of joy, challenge, and growth. But for women who are motherless daughters, becoming a mother can stir up a unique set of emotions—grief, longing, and at times, uncertainty. The absence of a mother while navigating the challenges of parenting is deeply felt, touching nearly every aspect of this journey.

Losing a spouse at a young age is one of life’s most unimaginable challenges. If you’re a parent, the loss is compounded by the responsibility of raising children while grieving. Suddenly, you’re not just a widow or widower; you’re a single parent navigating a completely new reality. It’s a heavy, complicated journey, but you don’t have to walk it alone.

Grief is one of those experiences that changes you forever. It reshapes the way you see the world, your relationships, and even yourself. But unless someone has gone through it, it can feel like they just don’t understand what you’re experiencing. That’s one of the reasons grief groups can be so powerful. They bring together people who truly get it, because they’ve walked this path, too.

Cleaning out a loved one’s belongings after their passing is one of the most emotionally complex parts of grieving. It’s a deeply personal process that can feel like a delicate balance between holding on and letting go. Among all the tasks that come with this, sorting through clothes often feels the most intimate. These were the pieces they wore, the items closest to their skin, tied to their scent, and the memories of everyday moments. How do you navigate this task without feeling like you’re erasing their presence?

While Christmas is about family, New Year’s can feel like an entirely different struggle. A new year is a fresh start for many, but for those grieving, it often feels like a painful reminder. Another year without them. Another step farther from the time you had together. It’s a lot to process.

As the seasons change and winter settles in, many of us feel a shift in our mood. The shorter days, colder temperatures, and lack of sunlight can bring about a condition known as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). For those already navigating the challenging path of grief, the impact of SAD can feel particularly heavy. Grief is a complex, deeply personal experience, and when paired with seasonal mood changes, it can feel overwhelming. However, there are ways to navigate this season with resilience and care, and one of the most beautiful approaches is inspired by the Scandinavian concept of “hygge.”

This Truth and Reconciliation Day reminds us all to be part of healing the wounds caused by colonialism. Building a society grounded in respect and equality means acknowledging generational trauma and actively participating in creating change.

Dealing with the loss of a parent can be a profoundly traumatic experience when it is unexpected, especially for young families. This unexpected loss is more intense, and the emotional impact resonates deeply within the family unit. Recognizing the unique challenges each child faces at different cognitive developmental stages is key to providing effective support.

In the realm of grief, the loss of a spouse or parent can be a devastating blow, especially for young families. The emotional turbulence that ensues is profound, and for those left behind, the first 5-6 months are akin to navigating through a storm where the waves of grief are relentless, crashing against the fragile stability of daily life.

I believe that grief is a complex and non-linear process, requiring time, courage, and energy. I grant myself the permission to grief in my own way.

Survivor guilt is a powerful and debilitating emotion that often haunts those left behind after a suicide. It stems from the belief that somehow, you could have prevented the tragedy, or that you bear some responsibility for the loss. This guilt can manifest in various ways, such as feeling responsible for not having seen any signs or not having intervened in time. In reality, suicidal individuals often hide their pain well, making it nearly impossible for friends and family to recognize the depth of their suffering.

Suicide, a profoundly tragic and deeply perplexing act, leaves in its wake a trail of heartache that defies understanding. Within the shock of this loss, survivors frantically search for the understanding how their loved one came to this decision. Today I want to offer a guiding hand to those who are grappling with the loss of a loved one to suicide.