Erin Griffin : Living Well, Dying Wise

18/01/2026

gifts are a Perth based company putting together the sweetest things for when people are in a time of need.

08/01/2026

The reality of grief x

My friend Emily died on a Wednesday.
Cancer. She was thirty-six.

She left behind two kids — eight and eleven — and a husband who stopped knowing how to function.

The food showed up immediately. Neighbors from down the block. Coworkers from the hospital where she worked. Parents from the kids’ school. Aluminum trays stacked in the fridge. Freezer crammed full. The kitchen counters disappeared.

“Let us know if you need anything,” everyone said.

By week two, the meals stopped.
Everyone went back to work, schedules, normal life.

By week three, her husband was sitting on the kitchen floor at midnight, surrounded by unopened mail, crying.
“I don’t know how she did all of this,” he said. “School portals. Doctor appointments. Permission slips. She handled everything.”

The kids wore mismatched clothes. Forgot homework.
The youngest, Lily, started wetting the bed again.

No one brings casseroles for that.

So I moved in.
Quit my job.
Broke my lease.
Became the person holding together a family quietly falling apart in a small suburb outside Chicago.

That’s when I learned something no one really tells you:
Grief doesn’t need food.
It needs someone to sign the field-trip form.
Drive to soccer practice.
Remember picture day.
Sit through the 3 a.m. nightmares.

It needs the boring, invisible, everyday work that keeps children from completely unraveling.

By month four, I was exhausted. Drowning.

Then one afternoon, a neighbor knocked on the door.
“I’m already picking up my kids from school tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll grab Jack and Lily too.”

It was such a small thing.
I cried.

The next week she said,
“I’m going to Costco on Friday. Text me your list.”

Then another parent took over Tuesday carpool.
A neighbor started mowing the lawn.
A teacher stayed late with Jack when he shut down after school.

They didn’t ask what we needed.
They just showed up.
Again and again.
For the unglamorous things that never end.

Two years later, Emily’s husband is functioning.
The kids are okay — not perfect, but okay.
I have my own apartment again.

But here’s what changed me:

Last month, a coworker’s wife died suddenly.
People sent flowers. Organized a catered memorial.

I did something different.

I showed up the following Tuesday.
“I’m taking your kids to school this week,” I said. “Here’s my number. Text me their schedule.”

He looked confused.
“But the funeral’s over.”

“Yeah,” I said.
“That’s when it gets harder.”

Now I tell people this:

When someone experiences loss, don’t ask, “What do you need?”
They don’t know. They can’t think.

Instead say:
“I’m doing laundry Saturday. Bring yours.”
“I’m at the grocery store. What’s on your list?”
“I’m picking up my kids. Yours too.”

Specific.
Repeated.
Ordinary.

Because grief doesn’t end when the casseroles stop.
That’s when it begins.

Broken families don’t need sympathy.
They need someone who shows up for the tenth soccer practice, the fifteenth meltdown, the hundredth load of laundry.

Emily didn’t get a miracle.
Her kids grew up without their mom.

But they grew up.

Because a neighborhood decided that showing up mattered more than saying the right thing.

So when someone’s world collapses, skip the casserole.
Pick up their kid from school.
Mow their lawn.
Remember their child’s name.

Be the boring help.
The repetitive help.
The help that lasts past week two.

That’s what actually saves people.

06/01/2026

Read all about it here 🫶🏽

https://psyche.co/guides/how-to-talk-to-someone-whos-grieving-and-be-supportive?fbclid=IwQ0xDSwPJ9bFleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBzcnRjBmFwcF9pZAo2NjI4NTY4Mzc5AAEeZ7KnzIFoCLJdgUaWx5mpASSkLiLfxXdrnvCZdGN0RALMcPC77EdNiXCMqVQ_aem_ySFcZxaC2knp1n1fQVqvJg

✨ A new year and an important new resource on grief ✨

We’re proud to share a powerful new article from Professor Lauren Breen, psychologist, grief researcher, and valued member of the Lionheart Board, written alongside clinical psychologist Maarten Eisma.

In “How to talk to someone who’s grieving,” Lauren and Maarten gently address something many of us struggle with:
👉 the fear of saying the wrong thing
👉 the discomfort that leads us to stay silent
👉 and the unintended harm that can come from clichés, advice, or avoidance

Drawing on years of research and the voices of bereaved people, the article reminds us that even simple, imperfect gestures of care can make a real difference. It offers practical, compassionate guidance on how to:
• acknowledge loss without trying to “fix” it
• listen and validate someone’s experience
• avoid platitudes like “be strong” or “at least…”
• make specific, meaningful offers of help
• keep showing up — not just once, but over time

💛 Social support after loss can protect against isolation, anxiety, and depression — yet many grieving people say they didn’t receive the support they needed. This article helps close that gap.

If you are supporting someone who is grieving — or want to feel more confident and compassionate when loss touches someone in your world — this article is for you:
👉 https://psyche.co/guides/how-to-talk-to-someone-whos-grieving-and-be-supportive

06/01/2026

🌼 Hospice reflections from my time today 🌼

I actually forgot that I used to offer these things called death connection sessions! I haven’t done one in ages and they’d need to be online while I’m without a fixed abode. If anyone wants to explore …check out my website for further details.

My entire business is undergoing a restructure so a new website and 2026 pricing coming …. soon 🪷
I will honour current prices for anyone who books any of my offerings before end of January.

www.eringriffin.com.au

Death Connection Session

An exploration of what death means to you.

What is your relationship to death and therefore life? Often we have more questions than answers but this is the place to dive within. Fears are welcomed to be expressed and explored about life, death and beyond.

I’ll guide a meditation and then a reflective delve into how you wish your death could (not should or will) unfold.

This is a thoughtful, body based experience to truly feel into your connection with death and the process of dying to enhance the way you live your life!

You’ll learn some practical tools but most importantly, this session has space for integration.

04/01/2026

An Australian woman is believed to have become the first person in the world to donate organs after self-administering oral voluntary assisted dying medication.

03/01/2026

🕊️

30/12/2025

Very true 🫶🏽

26/12/2025

Another goodie 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Kate Winslet directs and stars in 'Goodbye June', NOW STREAMING on Netflix! 💕
A powerhouse cast including Toni Collette and Helen Mirren stars in this emotional holiday drama. A fractured family gathers for one last Christmas with their matriarch (Mirren), forcing them to confront decades of secrets before the tree comes down.

23/12/2025

A beauty - filled offering, thank you Amy Firth - Music & Ministry 🫶🏽

If this time of year feels a little (or a lot) heavier than you expected, you’re in the right place. The end-of-year festive season can be incredibly tender when your heart is carrying grief. While the world ramps up into celebration mode, you’re probs feeling the opposite - tired, overwhelmed, ...

22/12/2025

some beautiful reflections on grief x

20/12/2025

❤️‍🩹

A Christmas for Grieving Hearts

May we, who are still grieving,
whether it be weeks, months, or years,
be spared the pressure to be brave,
or bright,
or healed this Christmas.

May we not be expected to be cheerful
while we are still in survival mode,
or while we may still be experiencing shock or disbelief.

For us who grieve,
December can feel like a stage
we are expected to step onto,
rehearsed lines in hand,
asked to perform versions of ourselves
that no longer exist.

May we accept ourselves exactly as we are,
and may our grief be recognized and accepted
by our loved ones:
in our absence of sparkle,
in the way we leave early,
in the way our eyes wander
when a song comes on,
in the way we measure our energy
like a precious, limited resource.

Grief is not a failure to participate in seasonal celebrations;
it is evidence of a love that mattered deeply.

May we be spared the well-meaning urgencies:
be strong,
stay busy,
focus on the good.

May no one rush us
toward a finish line that does not exist.
Healing is not a holiday task,
and courage does not always look like smiling through dinner.
Sometimes it looks like staying home.
Sometimes it looks like surviving the day
without explaining ourselves.

May this Christmas make room for the invisible,
for empty chairs and altered traditions,
for the ache that sharpens when lights go up
and the world insists on joy.

May we know that missing someone
is not ingratitude for what remains;
it is the continuation of love.

And if peace comes,
may it come gently,
without expectation.

If it does not,
may we still be held,
and be given permission
to be human
in a season
that forgets how complicated love can be.

…and may the spaces they once filled be met with loving remembrance.

~ 'A Christmas for Grieving Hearts' by Spirit of a Hippie

✍️ Mary Anne Byrne

~ Art by Olamik

18/12/2025

Giving grief a few minutes air time here. . .
What if grief is actually inviting us to understand what really matters to us, to each other? We won’t know unless we ask.

🫶🏽 Not sure if it needs emphasising - if the grieving person says no and changes the subject, that’s my cue to follow them 🫶🏽

Grief doesn’t want to be fixed, mostly just heard and held. I gotta hold back the desire to fix. A grieving person isn’t broken, they are human.

No judgement required, no problem solving needed, just a quiet steady witnessing.