Good Mourning Grief

A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Month: August 2026

Traditions of August

August 16, 2026 / / 0 Comments

August is a tough month for our family. Zane was killed on the seventh, and the thirteenth is his birthday. That year, we held his celebration of life on his birthday; a fitting way to honor the impact of his infinity. Since then, we have had the annual pleasure of Zane’s friends gathering with us to celebrate him on his birthday. Each year is a bit different, but food, drinks and memories shared are the main components. It has been a bittersweet tradition.

My sweet sister’s annual ritual is a bit different. On the seventh, she buys three bouquets of Lilies. She drives out to the site of the crash and places two of the bouquets at the unmarked cross that marks this spot. She then drives to my home to give me the third bouquet.

This year, we did a ‘reset.’ What that means is there was no collective cheer.  We are at a cross point where a few key members of our family have chosen to step back to address their grief (and their love for Zane) differently. I must honor that. There are a few more members that were away this year…yes life continues and does not stop for this one day. When one of my ‘favorites’ said it was too much to bear, I threw in the towel and decided that this year we go our separate ways, honoring him as individuals.

As we got closer to the birthday, my inability to let this year go by without any form of commemoration, led me to an idea. I took a trip to the liquor store and bought semi-bottles of gin, cans of Fever-Tree soda, lime slices, Doritos and bottles of bubbles. I made grab bags with a card explaining that some time on the thirteenth, if they could have a toast to Zane, snap a picture and send it to me, that will be our celebration for this year. 

It is funny how tradition plays with our grief. When a loved one passes, we are taught to tweak or change or cancel the traditions to accommodate our feelings. Or we build new ones. And that is what I did.  I made Zane’s birthday be about gathering EVERY year to ensure he was remembered and that we stayed connected to his friends.  I knew in my heart the year would come that it would end, but I wasn’t sure when and I didn’t want it to. I am once again feeling the pain that the loss of a tradition brings.

In my sadness I forgot about my sister’s tradition and when the call came in from her that the Lilies were on their way, I was filled with such gratitude that something was still the same. One of the traditions surrounding how our life has played out for the last eight years still happened. Somehow, those flowers smelled sweeter this year. She has no idea what her actions do for our hearts. Especially this year.

The thirteenth did arrive with hugs from his friends as I dropped off their goody bags. My son-in-law bought me lunch. My husband and I ventured out to our favorite watering hole for one, and then to a gin distillery, a new place I felt Zane would like, and then to a bar we enjoyed with Zane. The mixture of grief and drinks, sent me to bed early, accompanied by a headache in the morning; that part of tradition, I could do without!

My favorite part of the day was receiving pictures and videos from those who toasted Zane. I have a fabulous collection of beverages from all over the country that I will print and place in this year’s family photo album. Each one reminded me that he is fondly remembered. That, through him, we are connected. The tradition of celebrating my boy continues.

Eternity is Ours

August 9, 2026 / / 0 Comments

The police came to our door on a Tuesday morning, bringing devastating news that no parent ever could imagine receiving.

“On behalf of Zane…”

What do you mean ‘on behalf’?

“…. there was a collision, he was killed….”

NO. NO. NO.

That was eight years ago. My heart shattered into sharp, angry shards of glass.  I have tried putting it back together since.  It is a mosaic at best with large cracks that metaphorically are supposed to let the light in. I think that these cracks let the whole universe in. I know that my heart will never be the same. My cardiologist agrees.    

How can my beautiful boy be gone for that long? I continue to wait as if in some magical Hollywood moment, he will return. I search for him everyday in the face of strangers, in the places he enjoyed. When my mind tries to say he is gone, my heart says different. He is still somewhere.

Zane shared with me a quote: “In some other life, we are standing and laughing, that in some other life, we are apart.” This ideal that we are together somewhere, brings me comfort.

No parent ever gets over the unnatural order of their child leaving earth first. Life becomes a search to find the elixir to keep present for our other loved ones, our own lives, and for the legacy of our child. I have found time does not make it easier. It does not soften the fact that there are no more physical hugs. Time becomes the biggest tease, and part of grieving is finding a way to endure this.

Over the last years I have clung to the ideal that our loved ones are not truly gone. I have immersed myself in courses that teach how to connect to the other realm, to recognize angel signs. It has led me to a desire to be more comfortable with the unknown. To understand and share with others, that death is not the end.

The belief that we are energy and that energy cannot be destroyed is the only scientific fact that I hold in my heart. If this can be true, as even Albert Einstein believed, then my son is still here. And albeit different, I can still have a close relationship with him. Forever.

The evidence is in the signs; a saying that comes across my computer when I am thinking of him. The small feathers that float out of nowhere to land in front of my path. The dragonfly that flies next to me on my walk. The scent of his cologne late at night or our song playing on the radio. 

These are confirmations, celestial proof our children are still here. Messages from heaven are felt by the soul; the foundation to keeping us connected to our loved ones. For eternity. Death cannot subdue this.

There is consolation in the belief that Zane and I have a connection that will stand the test of time. We experienced this life as mother and son and I believe we will find each other in the next life. In the meantime, I will continue patching my mosaic heart, trusting that love never dies, it holds us tight. We are bound for eternity, morning, noon and night.

One Last Time by John Edward

August 2, 2026 / / 0 Comments

John Edward is an internationally acclaimed psychic medium whose book One Last Time is the story of his personal journey of discovering and developing his talents to communicate with the other side.

Throughout the book, Mr. Edward shares numerous readings and encounters with grieving individuals who sought messages from deceased loved ones. A major theme of the book is the enduring connection between heaven and earth.

He shares tips to receiving a successful reading through a medium. His advice is to “check your expectations at the door”. He states that the dead are ‘in charge’ as to who comes through and why and with what connection. Mediums are only the messenger of those from the other side.

He explains how he receives information through impressions, symbols, emotions, and images. His role is to share these feelings without censoring them. He tells his followers, “If I hear it, you’re going to hear it….” According to Mr. Edward, these communications can bring comfort, healing, and reassurance to those coping with loss.

Mr. Edward emphasizes hope, faith, and the idea that relationships continue beyond physical death. He encourages readers to remain open-minded about spiritual experiences and reminds us that signs from loved ones appear in everyday life.  (He conducts workshops for those who wish to develop their own psychic abilities.)

Overall, One Last Time combines autobiography, spiritual discussion, and accounts of mediumship to explore questions about the afterlife, grief, and the lasting bonds of love between people and their departed family members and friends.  It is an inspiring read that is both entertaining, and reassuring. Our loved ones never really die.

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