And so it begins.

Life after loss.

It just starts.

You wake up the next day and you have to get out of bed.

Make dinner for your kids.

Brush your teeth.

Shower. Take the dog out.

Pay the bills. Go to work.


No wonder some people don’t make it.

It is like the ship sails away from the dock and you just have to jump on.

There is no bridge to it.

Nobody holds your hand.

Nobody carries your broken heart on board.

You have to come as you are.

Blood. Pain. Tears. Screams. You jump.

And when you make the jump to this life after loss the ship does not have a seat for you.

Or a cabin. A bed. Nothing.

You have to find a corner to rest your body in the dirt and filth of the wet floor.

Until you can find the courage to do better.

I don’t know about you, but I felt like a refugee in the beginning. I think grief may be worse than racism, discrimination or poverty.

It makes you unlikeable, invisible. Alien. Confusing. Forgotten.

But what if…we all stuck together?

What if we had our own ship to jump to?

With our people on board.

What if we could find a way to make this beginning a little easier until we get our strength back?

I believe that even this letter right here, right now, builds a bridge to a better start of life after loss. A more humane start.

Broken hearts are welcome here. Dirty hair is fashionable. Pjs in the middle of the day is in. (Click to Tweet!)

Silence is not rude. Tears unlimited. Love is a resident.

Today, I am going to ask you to find a soul on the ship that looks like you. Talks like you.

And is also on the wet floor and has just made the jump over to this life after loss. Find her or him. Sit together.

And if you wonder where to find this person, you don’t have to look far.

If you are at work, start walking around the building and look inside the cubicles.

If you are at a coffee shop just look up, you will see them.

If you are at home, go online and on our FaceBook page. We have many people like you and me.

Just whatever you do… look up and look for us.

We might not look ready to meet you or make eye contact, but don’t let that fool you.

Just come on over and say hi.

And let’s do this new life together.

With onboarding love,


P.S.  And I meant it when I said there is going to be a ship for us all: