Grief can leave us feeling unmoored, searching for something tangible to grasp when words fall short and memories feel distant. That’s why we were so moved when we were introduced to Michelle — The Memory Bear Maker.
Memory bears offer a quiet, comforting presence, created from a well-worn shirt, a cherished sweater, or even a faded uniform — items that may at first seem like painful reminders. Michelle transforms them into something new: A bear with personality, warmth and soul. These handcrafted bears carry more than fabric; they hold love, history and the essence of the one who wore them.
Movement is life. The ways to move are countless. You can stretch, sway, dance, get athletic — or walk.
There are many kinds of walks. One of the most enjoyable is a nature walk where you take in the world around you with all your senses, being attuned to the wonders and beauty of nature.
Walking with your grief can bring solace as well as deep feelings that are better experienced than pent up inside. It can also be a reverie of memories of your loved one you want to revisit.
Walking can be a metaphor for going forward in your life. A moment in time. One step at a time.
I took a walk, came home, and wrote a poem. Something about the cloudy sky and sprinkles of rain awakened deep feelings.
Appreciating solitude, being alone and feeling lonely are all related experiences that individuals who are grieving are familiar with. They are, figuratively speaking, places that you might visit frequently — or run away from because they’re so uncomfortable. “I’ll just stay busy. That way, I won’t have to feel alone or be lonely.” Unfortunately, that strategy just doesn’t work. Grief and the…
We always hear feedback from our members and graduates of our programs about how positively Hope Connection has affected their lives. I offer, at this time, my own personal perspective of how Hope Connection has affected mine from a facilitator’s point of view.
“Healing Grief… Moment by Moment” is a podcast created and produced by HOPE Connection. In each short episode Dr. Jo Christner or another HOPE Connection therapist offers a meditative exploration of a different aspect of grief and the healing process. As you listen, we wish you love, light and comfort. This episode: “Grieving Alone” (April 2025) — Jo Christner, Psy.D.
To everything, there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.
A time to be born, a time to die. A time to plant, a time to reap.
A time to kill, a time to heal. A time to laugh, a time to weep.
A time to build up, a time to break down. A time to dance, a time to mourn.
A time to cast away stones. A time to gather stones together.
A time of love, a time of hate. A time of war, a time of peace.
A time you may embrace. A time to refrain from embracing.
A time to gain, a time to lose. A time to rend, a time to sew.
A time of love, a time of hate. A time of peace, I swear it’s not too late.
— Turn, Turn, Turn by Pete Seeger, based upon the book of Ecclesiastes
There is so much truth in these lyrics. The process of grieving, with all its ups and downs, mirrors the seasons. There is the darkness of winter grief, with tears in the night, then smiles as the warm summer sun brings the light and recollection of joyful times remembered.
Do you ever get an intuitive feeling, a little voice in your head, that tells you to do something, say something, that is completely out of your comfort zone? Have you ever acted on that feeling? Maybe you should, says Bill Hart, in this short but compelling video — Shoulder Taps.
“Raindrops on Roses and whiskers on kittens.
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens.”
You probably recognize those song lyrics from Sound Of Music. It is easy to dismiss that song as a bit of tuneful fluff with charming images. Another way of viewing it is as a gem of musical wisdom on how to survive the tough times of life.
Struggling with regret after a loss is an aspect of grief that many people experience. Take Eliot, for example (not his real name). Reflecting on his state of mind after his wife died, he said, “I have so much regret. I can’t stop thinking about it.” He was tormented by feelings of remorse and guilt. It had been over a year since his wife died, and his regrets had never abated. His wife had been ill for several years and, with help from caregivers, he took care of her. “I wasn’t present enough for my wife,” was one of his laments. “And sometimes, when I got frustrated, I wasn’t always nice. On the final night I left the room for a while, and she died. She must have wanted me there, and I wasn’t.”
It’s a common question: What is life like after two years of grief?
This question is similar to questions you might have asked earlier. What happens during the first year? What happens after one year of grief? What happens during the second year? These are markers of time, yet grief does not always know what time it is.