Stories of remembrance
Written for anyone who has lost someone they love. On grief, on memory, on the strange quiet ways we carry people with us.
The People I Carry: Why I Built The Bridge of Lights
Brenda, Mandy, Jen, Dad, Grandad, Steve and Nan. This is about who they were, what grief has taught me, and why I built a place where candles never burn out.
The first Christmas without them: gentle ways to get through it
The first Christmas after a loss can feel impossible. There’s no right way to do it, but there are gentle ways to make it a little easier to carry.
What to write on a memorial candle: short messages for someone you’ve lost
How do you fit someone you loved into a single sentence? You don’t have to. Here are some ideas to help you find a few words that feel like them, whoever you’re remembering.
Baby Loss Awareness Week: remembering every baby, and the Wave of Light
Every year from 9 to 15 October, Baby Loss Awareness Week gives families a chance to remember babies who have died, and to talk about a loss that too often goes unspoken. It ends on 15 October with the Wave of Light, when people around the world light a candle at 7pm.
Every light is different now: introducing coloured flames on The Bridge of Lights
Candles on The Bridge of Lights can now burn in blue, purple, yellow or rainbow as well as gold. Choose a colour that stands for a cause close to your heart, or simply one they'd have loved.
Finding Support: Who to Contact When Grief Feels Too Much to Carry
A gentle guide to the UK charities and helplines you can turn to when grief feels too heavy to carry alone - with current numbers for Samaritans, Cruse, Marie Curie and more.
The Employer That Let Me Be a Son First
There's a version of those eighteen months that could have been so much harder. This is what genuine employer support looked like, and why it mattered more than I realised at the time.
The Guilt You Don't Talk About
There was no way to do all of it well. My dad needed me, my job didn't pause, and my seven year old son Thomas was still waiting for me to come home and actually be there. This is what the guilt felt like.
The Eighteen Months - Supporting Dad
I used to see my dad once a fortnight. Then he was diagnosed with cancer, and over 18 months that became every day, including the 3am visits. This is what the build up to losing him actually looked like, and what nobody tells you about the time before the end.
A permanent candle for someone you've lost. Their name, their years, your words.
There permanently. £1.