Grief Doesn’t Have an Expiration Date: Here’s What to Expect
Grief Doesn’t End, But It Can Become a Guiding Force
The Question That Stopped Me Cold
“How long does the pain of grieving last?”
That question landed in my inbox last week. It came from a father marking the three-year anniversary of his child’s passing, in response to a blog I posted on the ten-year anniversary of losing my daughter, Maddie. “When does it get less painful?” he pleaded.
I sat with it for a long time.
There’s no neat answer. No tidy bow. Just a truth that’s hard to articulate unless you’ve been there.
The Early Years: Surviving the Fog of Grief
I thought about my journey. The first year after Maddie passed, I barely remember. I went back to see my psychiatrist, Dr. G, and restarted the antidepressants. My relationship with medication is complicated; part reluctant acceptance, part quiet gratitude. But when you're that low, survival becomes the only metric.
I’ve learned this: Grief is not something to get through. It becomes a part of you.
I could hardly function in those early years, especially the first five. And yet, I had to. I was self-employed and responsible for generating 100% of my livelihood. But I was scattered, forgetful, often overwhelmed. My thoughts were chaotic. My ability to make decisions, to execute even small plans, it all suffered.
The Hidden Impact of Traumatic Loss
One thing they don’t tell you about traumatic loss: it rewires your brain. It changes your personality.
I still struggle with memory, but creativity and ideation? They’ve never been stronger. The challenge has become narrowing down my focus, choosing one or two meaningful things instead of chasing 800 ideas that all feel urgent.
I was angry for a while. Frustrated. Disappointed in myself for not “accomplishing more.”
But then I started listening to the message I so often tell others grieving: be patient.
You can still build something meaningful in the future. You can still honour the person you lost. But first, truly, you have to grieve.
Finding My Way Back Through Writing
I didn’t have the luxury of a long pause. Life demanded I get back to work. But somewhere in that whirlwind, I found something that helped me hold on: writing.
Writing gave me a way to talk to Maddie.
To process what we went through.
To scream into the void and whisper to the stars. It carried me through the most painful years of my life, and in December 2023, it became a book I never knew I had in me.
From there, a new purpose emerged.
MentorWell: Purpose Born from Pain
That’s when the seeds of MentorWell and MindGrade began to grow.
MentorWell is my way of doing for others what I wish I could have done for Maddie: creating a space for teens and young adults to feel seen, heard, and supported by mentors who get it.
I’m lucky to have a co-founder like Alana Tart, who shares the vision and pushes me to improve. It’s the same standard she expects from herself.
But in the co-pilot’s seat? That’s Maddie. Always.
Grief as a Guiding Force
And here’s the most incredible part—this last year, I’ve felt something I hadn’t in a long time: inspiration so strong it makes me shake.
It’s as if Maddie is channeling her energy through this work. Every idea, every late-night brainstorm, every message from a parent or teen who says, “Thank you, I needed this”. It feels like part of her is still here.
So to the grieving father who asked me that impossible question…
Grief never leaves. But over time, it changes shape.
Some days it will feel like a boulder crushing your chest. Other days, it’s a whisper on the wind, bittersweet and beautiful. And sometimes, if you let it, that grief can become fuel.
To build something.
To help someone.
To carry forward the love that never left.
Just… be patient.
Call to Action: From Grief to Purpose
If you’re experiencing grief or supporting a young person who is, I understand. If you’re ready to channel that pain into purpose, I invite you to learn more about MentorWell and how we’re building something beautiful, one life at a time.
