Holding Space Through Grief: Love, Loss, and Staying Grounded

I’m writing this from a very tender place.

Recently, our family and our wider community experienced a devastating loss. My husband lost his “work spouse,” his brother in the Boston Fire Department, in the line of duty. There are moments when language feels too small for something this heavy. This loss has shaken so many people, and it has moved through our home in waves that are hard to describe.

I am not writing this as someone with a neat answer. I am writing this as a wife, a mother, a friend, and a woman who believes deeply in holding space when life feels unbearable.

Some seasons are not about fixing anything. They are about staying present, staying soft, and helping each other breathe through the unthinkable.

That is what this season has asked of me.

The Weight of the Roles

When someone you love is grieving deeply, you feel the weight too.

Watching my husband carry the loss of his closest companion at work has been heartbreaking. There is the public loss that a whole department and city can feel, and then there is the deeply personal loss of the person who stood beside you day after day. The one who understood the rhythm, the pressure, the gallows humor, the sacrifice, and the brotherhood without needing it explained.

My role right now has been helping keep him grounded while he moves through that grief.

What struck me most was that he recognized he needed that support and actually asked for it. I thought that was incredibly self-aware and brave in the middle of such devastation.

Not to rush him.

Not to fix it.
Not to find the perfect words.

Just to help create steadiness around him.

Sometimes that looks like quiet.
Sometimes it looks like making sure he eats.
Sometimes it looks like sitting near him without asking for anything.
Sometimes it looks like reminding his nervous system that, even in heartbreak, he is safe in this moment.

There is such sacredness in simply staying.

Holding Space While Still Holding Home

Supporting grieving people while caring for your own family is a tender balance.

At the same time, my heart has been with the partner and children of our fallen friend. With deep respect for their privacy, I will simply say that when a loss like this happens, the grief does not belong to one person. It touches an entire circle. And when you love that circle, you want to show up.

So I have been doing what so many women do: holding space for others while still keeping life moving for my own children.

There are schedules to manage, meals to make, rides, conversations, check-ins, and all the ordinary needs that do not pause just because your heart is heavy.

That has been one of the hardest truths of grief for me lately: life keeps asking things of you while you are still trying to catch your breath.

And still, I believe there is something powerful in being a steady presence. Not a perfect one. Just a present one.

The Power of Normalcy

Sometimes the most healing thing we can offer is one ordinary, love-filled night.

One evening, we hosted his family at our home. We shared dinner. There was basketball. There was singing. There were moments that felt almost normal.

Not because anything was normal.
And not because the grief was gone.

But because, for a few hours, there was an island of familiarity in the middle of so much chaos.

That night reminded me that comfort does not always need to look profound. Sometimes comfort looks like a full plate, kids being kids, laughter rising unexpectedly, and a home that says, you can exhale here.

Those small moments matter.

They do not erase the pain.

But they give the body a break from carrying it at full volume.

The Power of Community Support

Sometimes the love surrounding a loss becomes part of what helps carry everyone through.

One thing I will never forget from this experience is the overwhelming outpouring of support from the Boston Fire Department family and the entire community surrounding it.

In moments like these, you realize that the fire service is not simply a job or an organization. It is a brotherhood, a family, and a support system that wraps itself around people when the unimaginable happens.

There were firefighters showing up for one another, families supporting families, meals, conversations, check-ins, escorts, honors, and quiet moments of care happening behind the scenes constantly. In the middle of devastating grief, there was also tremendous love.

I was especially grateful to see support being offered through the WINGS organization for spouses and families navigating line-of-duty loss. Knowing there were people specifically there to help carry some of the emotional weight mattered deeply to me.

What touched me even more was learning that the founder created the organization after losing her own husband in the line of duty. There is something incredibly powerful about support created by someone who truly understands this kind of grief from the inside.

That kind of compassion matters.

Sometimes healing begins simply by being surrounded by people who understand without needing every word explained.

When Grief Lives in the Body

Grief isn't just emotional. It moves through the body and the nervous system, too.

I have seen this up close in these last days: the exhaustion, the shock, the fog, the tension, the way the body stays alert after something devastating. Grief can live in your chest, your throat, your stomach, your sleep, and your breath.

At Be Your BLISS, we talk often about nervous system regulation because in moments like these, regulation is not a luxury. It is support. It is care. It is one way we help the body feel just a little safer while the heart catches up.

You might notice:

• Brain fog or trouble focusing.
• Exhaustion that rest doesn’t seem to fix.
• Tension in the body that won’t easily let go.
• A sense of numbness or disconnection that feels strange and heavy.

If that is where you are, please be gentle with yourself. Your body is responding to something enormous.

Grief is not weakness. It is the body and heart trying to process love, shock, change, and loss all at once.

Daily Practices for Grounding

In seasons like this, small practices become anchors.

One of the most meaningful ways I have been supporting the people closest to this loss is through Reiki. Each night, I have been giving Reiki to my husband and to our late friend’s partner to help regulate their nervous systems and offer a moment of calm inside the overwhelm.

These are quiet moments.
Gentle moments.
Moments where no one has to explain how they feel.

Just space to soften.
Space to breathe.
Space for the body to come down a notch from the intensity of grief.

I believe deeply that healing support does not always have to be loud or elaborate. Sometimes it is a hand placed with intention. A calm presence. A supportive practice repeated night after night that reminds someone: you do not have to carry this alone.

And when the wave feels especially strong, I come back to simple grounding tools.

The 5-4-3-2-1 Grounding Practice

This is still one of my favorite “Moment Makers” for when everything feels surreal.

Look around and notice:

• 5 things you can see.
• 4 things you can touch.
• 3 things you can hear.
• 2 things you can smell.
• 1 thing you can feel.

Breathe Through the Wave

You can do this anywhere, even in the middle of a hard day:

• Inhale through your nose for 4 seconds.
• Hold gently for 2 seconds.
• Exhale slowly for 6 seconds.

Quietly remind yourself:

I am here. I am safe in this moment.

Emotional Release Writing

Not polished. Not pretty. Just honest.

One of the resources I am especially grateful we already have inside the Be Your BLISS App is emotional release writing. It gives you a place to put the thoughts, the fear, the anger, the ache, and the questions that have nowhere else to go.

Some feelings need to be spoken.
Some need to be cried.
And some need to be written out so the body does not keep carrying them alone.

Carrying Love vs. Carrying Pain

Feeling emotion months or years later doesn't mean you are “stuck.” It means you loved deeply.

One of the biggest misconceptions about grief is that we have to “move on” or “get over it.” But love doesn't disappear just because a person or a chapter is gone.

You can carry love with you without being weighted down by the pain forever. Love naturally leaves an imprint on who you are: your values, your humor, your kindness. That is a beautiful thing.

A Sanctuary We Already Have

Some support needs to be available the moment life changes.

That is one reason I am so grateful that the BLISS Through Grief space already exists inside the Be Your BLISS App. This is not about a launch or an announcement. It is about having a sanctuary ready for moments exactly like these.

Inside, there are supportive tools like:

• Emotional release writing for when your thoughts and feelings need somewhere to land.
• Grounding flows for when your body feels overwhelmed, flooded, or disconnected.
• Gentle support that meets you where you are without pressure.

That matters to me because grief rarely gives you warning. It arrives, and suddenly you need something real. Something simple. Something that helps you return to your breath and your body one moment at a time.

If You Are Carrying Something Heavy

You do not have to do it perfectly. You just have to keep meeting the moment with care.

If you are grieving right now, or loving someone who is, I hope this reminds you that presence matters. Small practices matter. Ordinary evenings matter. Regulating the nervous system matters. Compassion matters.

And if you need a quiet place to land, I invite you to spend time with the grief support already waiting for you inside the Be Your BLISS App.

For now, I am continuing to do what this season has asked of me: hold my husband close, support those walking through the unimaginable, care for my children, and honor a life that meant so much to so many.

If this reflection met you where you are today, what is one small thing helping you stay grounded right now?