Heartfelt Healing: Amanda's Grief Blog

Welcome to the inside of my brain.

I've decided to share my raw and emotional journey through the depths of grief with the world. Why? Because navigating grief is awful, and in my experience, healing comes from sharing heartfelt stories, connecting with other people who understand, and from having grief acknowledged and witnessed by others.

If you are reading this and you have lost someone close to you, I am so sorry for your loss. I wish you comfort amid the discomfort.

Search This Blog

Pages

Home
Read from Beginning
About Me
Contact Me

Showing posts from June, 2026

View all

Posts

Honouring Her, Step by Step

- June 07, 2026

0

Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps

Subscribe

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name

/* real people should not fill this in and expect good things - do not remove this or risk form bot signups */

Total Pageviews

Contact Me

Name

Email *

Message *

"Put Your Mask On First" - The Analogy of Self-Compassion

When we fly, one of the first things we hear is the safety instruction to “put on your own oxygen mask before helping others.” It’s pretty straightforward - keep yourself breathing so you're actually able to help someone else. But the meaning goes deeper than just in-flight safety. I think it's a pretty powerful analogy for self-care and self-compassion in everyday life, especially when we're grieving. Lately, I've been thinking a lot about self-compassion. I realized that knowing what "putting your mask on first" actually means can be tricky because it's not always natural to notice when we need compassion. Showing kindness to others feels easy compared to being kind to ourselves. I recently read "The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion" by Christopher Germer, and right on the first page, he asks, “Why is it so hard to extend the same kindness to ourselves that many of us gladly offer to others?” Great question, right? He follows up by saying, ...

Dear Amanda, Love Mom

A year ago, approaching the anniversary of my Mom's passing, I found myself struggling with a recurring dream. In the dream, Mom would lovingly snuggle my brother and me on the couch and say “OK, here’s everything you need to know about life without me…” And then the dream would end and I’d wake up in a jolt. I was upset and desperate for answers... there was so much left unknown. The brief period between my mom's diagnosis and her passing meant we never broached the topic of her potential death, and I was so unsure of what she might have said to me, if she had known. The dream persisted for weeks, even months, prompting me to bring it up in counselling. When my counsellor asked what I believed my mom would say to me in that moment (at this point, it was around 1 year after her passing), I found myself at a loss for words. However, later that week, I fixed myself a bubble bath, grabbed a pen and paper, and I started writing. I embraced all of what I knew about my mom and what s...

Dear Charlee, Love Mom

Dear Charlee, When we chose your name, I knew I wanted your Gramma's name to be part of it, while still allowing your name to be uniquely yours. And I love the way we managed to get her whole name, spelled exactly as she wrote it, to live inside yours. I got your health card in the mail this week, and it felt like a big milestone... something that made everything about you official. And when I opened it, my eyes immediately saw LEE ANN first. Once I saw it, I couldn't unsee it. It was the first time I had seen your name spelled out in official documents. And there she was. Right there in you. A reminder that she is forever part of your story. You and Gramma also share a birth month, which feels very special. You were born only 15 days (and 61 years) apart. I originally thought it would be really neat if you shared the same birthday as her, and it would have been (if it happened). But, in the end I’m glad we have two separate days to celebrate. Yours just for you, and hers as a ...

If I Could Hitch a Ride On a Time Machine 🎵

"If I could hitch a ride on a time machine, I would bring you right back here with me, And I wouldn't have to watch you disappear. Even though I said all the things that mattered most, While I held on tight to the end of the rope, I could keep you close but I couldn't keep you here. A lot can happen in a year." 🎵 -Three Six Five, Shinedown 🎵

When Grief Brings People Together

Grief Sucks. There's no other way to say it. It's heavy, it's lonely, and it's painful. When my mom died, I was grieving deeply and I pretty much thought about my mom and her death every second of every day. But somehow, in the middle of all that pain, I found something unexpected... connection. Two years ago, I joined a grief group for young women. We were all between the ages of 25 and 31, we had all lost our 50-something-year-old moms to cancer, and we were all looking for someone who “got it”. When we had our first call, we were all nervous because we were strangers and we were also having a tough time in life. But we connected pretty instantly and then met weekly on an unfacilitated WhatsApp video call. We talked about our loss, we cried, we listened, and we sat in silence when the words didn't come. Over time, our relationship grew. The girls became more than just "my grief group" - now we are friends and we are a part of each other's stories. W...