Death By Overdose

Sarah K – Trauma therapy

Sarah explains how she felt broken after her husband’s death to overdose and how grief therapy helped her untangle all the feelings that came from such an unexpected death

Krista – “Grief counselling helps”

Krista talks about how a listening ear has helped her. Krista continues to grieve the death of her son from opioid overdose.

Nicole – Using Art and Creativity to Express Grief

Nicole discusses the work she does to allow access to creative outlets such as art hives and gardening.

Beauty found at the edges: a portrait of community support

I’d sent a text saying “Hello friends, I’m putting out a call for flowers. I went to public school with Kory, the young man who died in downtown Cobourg this week, and though I hadn’t seen him in recent years, I feel the loss of him on a community level, as I imagine you do, too. Some of Kory’s people are gathering tonight in vigil at the bank where he died, and I’m gathering flowers from those of us who have gardens to share with this grieving community. Do you have some blooms in your garden that you’d be willing to share?”

Christian – Grieving spaces

Christian talks grieving spaces and people coming together when grieving

Sarah K – Humour to cope

Sarah discuss how humour has been a tool in helping her to cope

Christian – Grieving the whole person

Christian talks about how we choose remember people when there has been a loss to drug poisoning

Sarah K – Be gentle

Sarah shares what what she has learned to help someone going through what she has been through

Kate – My art and my brother

Kate talks about being an artist and expression through art can remind her of her brothers encouragement

Nicole – Pandemic’s Effect on Grieving as a Community

Nicole discusses the ways the pandemic has affected the way people grieve as a community.

When Death Feels like a Thief

In the heart of my grief, at my frailest, all I could see was what was no more. I grieved all that was stolen from me by death; love, security and even my very self. Had I known the value of having every pocket of who I was, picked bare by grief, I would not have fought so hard to hold onto it all.