From 2-8 December 2024, National Grief Awareness Week offers a vital opportunity to shine a light on the emotional toll of grief and the support available to those who need it most.
At Pilgrims Hospices, we believe that no one should have to face grief alone. That’s why our Stepping Stones bereavement services are here for every adult in east Kent, offering compassionate and practical support, no matter the circumstances of their loss.
Stepping Stones provides a safe space for individuals to connect with others who understand their pain, offering group support sessions across Ashford, Canterbury and Thanet. Our volunteers, trained to guide people through the complex emotions of grief, help create an environment where individuals can share their stories, learn from others, and find solace in new friendships. These bereavement support groups are open to everyone, fostering a community where healing begins through shared experiences and support.
In 2019, Pilgrims launched Stepping Stones Bereavement Cafés, which are held monthly at each of our local hospices. These cafés offer a relaxed, welcoming space where bereaved adults can meet, talk, and learn coping strategies, while enjoying refreshments. Each 1.5-hour session is designed to be intimate, giving participants the choice to engage as much or as little as they feel comfortable with. The Ashford café meets on the first Friday of each month, Canterbury on the first Saturday, and Thanet on the last Friday.
For those who find comfort in nature, our Stepping Stones Bereavement Walk & Talk groups offer a unique form of support. These gentle walks, held weekly across east Kent, allow participants to connect with others while benefiting from fresh air and light exercise. Whether walking around Conningbrook Lakes in Ashford, Toddlers Cove in Canterbury, Pegwell Nature Reserve in Cliffsend or Westcliff, Ramsgate, these outings provide a peaceful environment for healing.
As we expand our bereavement services, we’re excited to launch new bereavement support services across east Kent. To make this possible, we’re looking for caring, empathetic individuals to join us as volunteers. If you’re passionate about supporting others through grief, we invite you to reach out to our Bereavement Services Coordinators at [email protected] or call 01233 504 127(Option 2) to learn more about how you can help.
At Pilgrims Hospices, we believe in the power of community and connection. This National Grief Awareness Week, we encourage everyone to come together to acknowledge the pain of loss and discover the healing that comes through shared support.
You don’t have to walk this path alone – Stepping Stones is here for you.
Grief is a natural, normal and very necessary response to loss, but one that often leaves us feeling overwhelmed, isolated and fearful of facing a future without our loved one.
National Grief Awareness week encourages empathy, compassion, and support for those who are grieving, emphasising that grief is a universal and often challenging part of the human experience, it aims to break the stigma surrounding loss and grief.
This week serves as an opportunity to raise awareness about the emotional, psychological, and social impacts of grief, and to create safe spaces for individuals to share their stories and find support.
Throughout this week, Pilgrims is shining a light on our Stepping Stones bereavement services, highlighting the importance of support, education and community connection in the bereavement journey.
2 December 2024 Grief Awareness Our pre-recorded bite-sized Grief Awareness session gives an introduction to how healthy grief works, looking at some of the theories that help us to explain and understand the grieving process, and identifying normal reactions many people experience when they are touched by grief.
4 December 2024Become a Stepping Stones bereavement support volunteer Read an interview with Maria Spencer, who was inspired to become a bereavement support volunteer after Stepping Stones helped through her own grief journey.
5 December 2024How Stepping Stones can help Read the stories of Fraser and Matt, who have been supported through their grief by Stepping Stones bereavement services.
6 December 2024Grief Awareness Training & Education courses Find out more about our Grief Awareness training courses suitable for anyone who provides support to bereaved people.
7 December 2024Community bereavement support An interview with Dawn Baldwin of the Wooden Box Café, who approached Pilgrims when she wanted to set up a bereavement group in her own cafe, at the heart of her community.
8 December 2024Learning to live and love again after loss An interview with Kevin and Dympna, who connected through Pilgrims bereavement support and became united in their grief after both losing their partners.
National Grief Awareness Week takes place 2-8 December 2024. It raises awareness of the impact of grief and loss on a national platform. To find out more, visit thegoodgrieftrust.org/ngaw.
Pilgrims Hospices is a charity dedicated to providing expert care and support to patients with life-limiting illnesses in east Kent. Our services ensure comfort, dignity, and quality of life for patients and their families, offering compassionate care both in hospice settings and in the community.
In a ground-breaking collaboration, world-renowned British photographer Rankin has partnered with Hospice UK to present the #IRemember exhibition at the Ann Robertson Centre, Canterbury. Scheduled from December 2–6, this poignant collection of portraits coincides with National Grief Awareness Week, offering a unique opportunity to engage in open conversations about loss, memory, and the human experience.
Rankin, celebrated for his work at the cultural forefront, has captured iconic figures like Madonna, The Rolling Stones, David Bowie, Kate Moss, Kendall Jenner, and Queen Elizabeth II through his lens. However, his latest endeavour takes a deeply personal turn, as he collaborates with Hospice UK to create a series of eight portraits exploring the intricacies of grief. Each portrait weaves together the images of those who have passed, with the cherished memories of their loved ones, providing a creative exploration of diverse bereavement experiences.
RubinaKevin and Jack
The Ann Robertson Centre, Pilgrims Hospices Education and Training Centre, will host the exhibition, displaying the portraits alongside the connecting stories that give them life. Rankin, reflecting on the power of photography in dealing with death, states: “Photographs are like time capsules, which means photography can be very powerful in dealing with death and loss.” He emphasises the emotional connection photography provides across time and space, enabling individuals to keep their loved ones alive in memory.
Throughout Grief Awareness Week, the #IRemember exhibition will be accessible to Pilgrims Hospices service users, staff, and volunteers as part of Pilgrims Stepping Stones bereavement services. This initiative aims to foster dialogue and reflection on the universal topic of grief.
Helen Bennett, CEO of Pilgrims Hospices, expresses her enthusiasm for the event, stating: “We are delighted to be hosting this wonderful exhibition at the Ann Robertson Centre, Canterbury. It is an amazing opportunity to showcase the work of a world-renowned artist while also encouraging our local community to open up the conversation around death, dying, and grief.”
The exhibition invites viewers to explore the multifaceted aspects of grief and loss, providing a space for connection with the raw and emotional narratives of each individual featured. Helen encourages the local community to engage with the exhibition, saying: “We hope many people will come and experience this wonderful opportunity to view such poignant images.”
Photographs are like time capsules, which means photography can be very powerful in dealing with death and loss
Don’t miss this special opportunity to witness and discuss an important collection of real-life portraits and stories, capturing the essence of death and the enduring memories of loved ones left behind.
Pilgrims Hospices cares for thousands of local people each year, free of charge, during the most challenging time in their lives. They offer care and support in people’s own homes, in the community, and in their inpatient units, as well as running a 24-hour advice line.
1st February 2023
Pilgrims Hospices mark National Grief Awareness Week 2022
In October 2019, The Good Grief Trust launched National Grief Awareness Week at the Houses of Parliament in Westminster. The campaign aims to raise awareness of the impact of grief, normalise conversations about it, and create a unified voice for all bereavement support services in the UK. Pilgrims Hospices was delighted to attend and help to spread the word about its Stepping Stones bereavement support programme, which is available to any adult in east Kent.
Three years on, in December 2022, Pilgrims hosted its own awareness event at the Ann Robertson Centre in Canterbury. It provided an opportunity for bereavement services from across east Kent to come together, network and share ideas about how they can support local people who are grieving.
“We were really keen to create an opportunity for fellow bereavement support providers to come together during National Grief Awareness Week, to explore and understand how the services we all offer can best support anyone in east Kent who is grieving. The event proved both enlightening and positive. It allowed us all to gather new information, network with others providing specialist support and, importantly, signpost bereaved people effectively in a timely manner.
“We hope to build on this event to engage with local stakeholders and the community, to ensure supporting bereaved people effectively is everyone’s business.”
The feedback from attendees was positive, too:
“Thank you so much for inviting me to the event. It was very interesting.”
“I just wanted to thank you again for putting on such a great event and inviting us to come along; we took a huge amount from it, and hopefully we were able to provide some helpful information to the charities present.”
We hope to build on this event to engage with local stakeholders and the community, to ensure supporting bereaved people effectively is everyone’s business.
Annie Hogben, Expert Volunteer Project Lead
The event was attended by seven local bereavement support organisations, plus an independent celebrant and an independent funeral director:
Pilgrims Hospices cares for thousands of local people each year, free of charge, during the most challenging time in their lives. They offer care and support in people’s own homes, in the community and in their inpatient units as well as running a 24-hour advice line.
7th December 2022
A Colourful Death
Photograph: Saijal Reahal with her mother, Bina
Saijal Reahal talks us through her struggle to come to terms with having a chronically ill mother and her visualisations and notions about death, versus those of people around her.
I was nine years old on my school sports day when I discovered my mum had an incurable autoimmune disease that she had kept from me since I was born. I only found out because I was crying that she was the only mum in my friendship group who did not volunteer to participate in the parents’ sack race (horrific, I know). She wiped my tears and said, “I’ll tell you later”.
At home, I learnt that it was lupus, and not lack of love, that made her think twice before throwing her delicate bones around.
I was heartbroken. I couldn’t fathom that an illness had rattled her bones, joints and several organs, that she felt fatigued most days, that it wasn’t safe for her to deliver a baby, and that in spite of all of this, she had barely told a soul, including me.
The day after, I envisioned her funeral. I fired out questions that were only permissible to be asked by a child: “Are you going to die?” “Will I get it and also die?” “How will Papa cope without you?” His cooking skills were, after all, only average at the time.
We created an environment where it was safe to speak about death, with hope, lightness and even humour.
Saijal Reahal
Over the years, I was repeatedly reassured. Whilst some days were tough for me, as an only child, and Papa, the strong medications meant Mum could enjoy a good quality of life, her attitude made her consider it a great quality of life… and Papa got better at cooking. We created an environment where it was safe to speak about death, with hope, lightness and even humour. I asked Mum how she would want her send-off to be to the level of detail of: casket open or closed, commiseration or celebration, and which one of her lipsticks I would wear.
The day she passed away at 61, 17 years after that sports day, was still unexpected. She complained of a more intense type of pain in the morning, and within a few hours she was gone. Given the way her illness had worked in the past, with good periods and bad periods, we thought we would get a bit more notice. But, I did feel like I had braced myself for losing her from all of our conversations, post-sack race. I focused my efforts on organising the funeral to do her justice. I would stick to our traditions as British Indian Sikhs, whilst making it colourful, majestic and different, to match her vibrant character.
However, support was not easy to garner from all family and friends. Some were sceptical about doing things in such an upbeat manner. They were not comfortable with the idea of wearing colour or bright lipstick as some of my cousins and I had planned to do in honour of Mum’s style. Having the casket closed also sparked some controversy; I got advised it may be seen as “exclusionary”. And I was told I was probably in shock or denial, especially as I had not cried after the initial 10-minute shock. I came to learn that I was not grieving the traditional way.
I believe talking about life, death and all the ugly bits in between, made coping with both a chronically ill family member and bereavement, easier.
Saijal Reahal
Across much of Indian culture, when someone dies, people will arrive almost immediately at the home to pay their respects. And when I say people, I mean everyone the deceased may have ever spoken to, even if they have not seen them in decades. Here, they will pray, talk and eat. This can go on for close to 24 hours a day until the funeral. Luckily, my aunties pretty much moved in and were resident chefs and chaiwalas, catering for the masses of guests and keeping everything spotless. The support of the community was beautiful and a testament to Mum’s people-adoring persona, but nobody prepares you for the gaping hole it leaves when everyone packs up and goes the day after the funeral.
It is also the norm for people to visibly exhibit that they are mourning – that equals showing face at the house, not wearing colour, weeping and even wailing. I found this hard to come to terms with, particularly with those who who were not close to Mum. The Sikh religion does not advocate the need for public, ritualised displays of mourning and, actually, encourages releasing yourself from your interpersonal attachments and letting the deceased go with dignity and good blessings for wherever their soul travels to next. Yet, it seems to be hard for people to break centuries-old “traditions”.
Saijal on the day of her mum’s funeral
Over the course of the funeral planning to the day itself (which was exactly as splendid as I had wished for Mum), people became more relaxed and open-minded, myself included; after all, there is no right way to grieve. I think their initial discomfort stemmed from death still being a taboo in our culture, and wider society, until it happens – then everyone wants to know and be involved. I was able to talk about death and what happens next relatively freely in my household, but it can be considered morbid, inappropriate, improper.
I also reflected inwards. Perhaps my lack of tears was not so noble. I tried to show I was doing OK. I could not stand people vocalising their pity for losing my mother suddenly, especially at a younger age, when I was navigating my troublesome twenties and did not have a family of my own. My pride was reflective of Mum’s. She fought lupus for over 40 years but kept it a secret that she shared with very few people. I often encouraged her to blog about her experience from the lens of a South Asian sufferer, particularly as she had a science background and a PhD, but she refused. Neither of us, in times of physical or mental pain, wanted to appear weak and risk being gossiped about in the community. Being this vulnerable now is certainly daunting.
But, I believe talking about life, death and all the ugly bits in between, made coping with both a chronically ill family member and bereavement, easier. I have fond memories of Mum and I nattering away about her “loopy lupus”, the bruises she would get after blood tests and injections (“What’s this a map of, Mum?”) and that infamous sack race that changed the course of our mother-daughter dialogue forever.
Mum taught me that death is not the opposite of life; it is the consequence of life – of having breathed, experienced, felt and loved.
You can find more about Saijal’s story in Letters from the Grief Club, an anthology of short works from people who have been bereaved.
Saijal Reahal
Saijal Reahal is a part-time Financial Services consultant and a full-time mental health advocate who has publicly spoken and written about her experiences with depression, trauma and grieving, and how she uses fashion and performance to heal herself. In 2019, Saijal lost her mother to complications of systemic lupus erythematosus, an autoimmune disease she had been suffering from for over 40 years. Through her writing, Saijal seeks to destigmatise and put some colour around chronic illness and death.
There’s much more to death than we think; what if it isn’t just an ending, but an event we can plan for? Thinking beyond the four walls of hospices and hospitals, we have the chance to approach it with confidence and plan a good death. After Wards is a collection of insights and ideas from people who can help us all to re-imagine this essential part of life, and to live well until we die.
Continue the conversation at our Time to Talk events with film screenings, poetry readings, Death Cafes and much more.
29th November 2022
This Grief Thing: Helping people to talk about grief
Photograph: This Grief Thing Middlesbrough 2018 by Fevered Sleep
Following the devastating and sudden death of his sister, David Harradine, Co-Artistic Director and CEO of arts production company Fevered Sleep, launched This Grief Thing.
We live in a time when many people find grief impossible to talk about. David explains how This Grief Thing aims to normalise conversations about grief, helping people to support each other through a universal human experience.
It’s 24 November 2011, the night my life changed. 6:50pm, and I’m in my studio in London, editing a short film about ageing and time. My phone rings. My sister-in-law’s voice, “David… I don’t know how to tell you…”. In the background, my mum, wailing, screaming, pain. A sound I will never, ever forget. “David… I don’t know how to tell you…”
On 24 November 2011, my life changed. My older sister, my closest sibling, had died in a car accident. Immobilised with shock, I called my partner. He came to collect me. We drove back to our flat. In the kitchen, I smashed things up. We got in the car, we drove up the A1 to my parent’s house in Yorkshire, the house where I grew up, and I stayed there for the next three months, in a house of grief, in shock, in my childhood bed, trying to help my parents, trying to come to terms with what had happened.
Again and again, we heard about invisible grief, unacknowledged grief, grief that had to be hidden, silenced, ignored. We talked about mourning clothes, about wearing black, or arm bands, about the different rituals in different cultures and religions and countries, all the different ways that grief could be worn on the surface of the body: “I’m still grieving: talk to me about it.”
David Harradine
During that time, I felt completely disconnected from my former life. I stopped working, focused completely on my parents and all the ways I might be able to help them survive this loss. Cooking for them, eating together, crying together, visiting my sister’s grave. I tried to fill the abyss that she had left behind; trying to take up the space of two children; trying to produce that much love.
For myself, I felt as though a veil had lifted, a veil that had been obscuring a whole emotional landscape that I didn’t know existed. A landscape of loss, and death, and grief; a landscape I was completely lost in, confused and angry and heartbroken; a landscape for which I had no map.
This Grief Thing Preston 2018 by Garry Cook
I am lucky. I work in the arts. I’m co-artistic director of an arts production company called Fevered Sleep. My friends and colleagues are in tune with their emotions, sensitive and articulate, and they were amazing; an amazing support, unafraid of my grief, it seemed; able and willing to acknowledge it. My mum had a very different experience: seeing people turn away when they saw her in the supermarket; going out for coffee with friends who didn’t ask her how she was. As though being a grieving mother was a disease, something contagious, something to avoid. Or something just too awful to acknowledge. But one by one by one, my friends also stopped asking how I was, how my parents were; stopped asking about my sister. After a few months, everybody else seemed to be back to business as usual. Me? I was still in the thick of grief, still in shock, still bewildered, and increasingly angry and disappointed that those people who had been so amazing at the start had one by one by one forgotten to ask how I was; had forgotten how to see and acknowledge my grief.
One day I said to Sam Butler, Fevered Sleep’s other artistic director and my best friend, “I want to make a T-shirt that says: ‘I’M STILL GRIEVING: WHY HAVE YOU STOPPED TALKING TO ME ABOUT IT?’”. Without hesitation, Sam said, “Let’s do that, let’s make that happen, let’s make that for you”. And so our project This Grief Thing was born.
This Grief Thing Preston 2018 by Garry Cook
This Grief Thing Manchester 2019 by Richard Tymon
This Grief Thing Manchester 2019 by Richard Tymon
This Grief Thing Manchester 2019 by Richard Tymon
This Grief Thing Manchester 2019 by Richard Tymon
This Grief Thing Manchester 2019 by Richard Tymon
This Grief Thing Manchester 2019 by Richard Tymon
This Grief Thing Manchester 2019 by Richard Tymon
This Grief Thing London 2021 photo by Method Films
This Grief Thing London 2020 by Paul Akinrinlola
This Grief Thing London 2021 by Method Films
This Grief Thing London 2021 by Method Films
This Grief Thing London 2021 by Method Films
We began as we always do when we’re making a new project: by talking with other people about the thing we are working on. Over several months, we travelled the country, meeting small groups of people to talk about grief. We gathered stories, advice, words and phrases that we heard repeatedly. Words that attempted to describe grief; words that might be useful for someone who’s grieving: Grief is like the weather. Grief = Love. Don’t panic if I cry. Let me be sad. There will be joy again.
This Grief Thing London 2020 by Fraser Muggeridge Studio
Again and again, we heard about invisible grief, unacknowledged grief, grief that had to be hidden, silenced, ignored. We talked about mourning clothes, about wearing black, or arm bands, about the different rituals in different cultures and religions and countries, all the different ways that grief could be worn on the surface of the body: “I’m still grieving: talk to me about it.”
Sam and I worked with a graphic designer, Fraser Muggeridge studio, and made a collection of clothing – T-shirts, jumpers, scarves – as well as things like cards and brooches and badges. Every item showed one of the phrases that we’d gathered through those conversations about grief: Let me be sad; Grief = Love; Don’t panic if I cry
Once we’d made this collection, we travelled around England, opening pop-up shops. The shops became places for people to gather to talk about grief. We sold the items on a pay-what-you-want basis (someone might pay 50p for a jumper, someone else £50). Hundreds and hundreds of people came to talk, to listen, and to learn about grief. When the shops were closed, we held more conversations, which we called Grief Gatherings. These became a vital, central part of the project, and when the pandemic arrived in 2020, and meeting in person was no longer possible, we moved the Grief Gatherings online. Suddenly we found ourselves in conversations with people all over the world: people in the UK talking with people in Canada and Australia, France and Belgium and the USA. As the project grew, we invited other people to host conversations for us. Brilliant guest hosts engaged people from their own communities. Deaf actress and producer, Deepa Shastri, held Grief Gatherings in BSL; queer activist Dan de la Motteheld gatherings for LGBTQ people; multidisciplinary artist Lou Robbin held them for people from the Global Majority.
This Grief Thing has tried to make grief more visible. It’s an attempt to normalise grief, to insist that it’s a normal, healthy emotion that shouldn’t be hidden or suppressed; that grief isn’t something to be ashamed of.
David Harradine
In 2021, we put together a whole programme of events in London: we opened market stalls instead of shops; we ran a billboard and poster campaign, trying to make grief visible in public spaces; we did many more Grief Gatherings; we commissioned artists Akshay Sharmaand Rayvenn d’Clark to make work on the theme of grief. We also curated a series of online conversations on grief, which brought together various ‘grief experts’ to talk about grief from their own perspectives. An artist with a philosopher; a death doula with an academic; a photographer with a bereavement counsellor; a theatre-maker with a fashion historian. If you’re interested, you can find recordings of these conversations on our website.
In all these different ways, This Grief Thing has tried to make grief more visible. It’s an attempt to normalise grief, to insist that it’s a normal, healthy emotion that shouldn’t be hidden or suppressed; that grief isn’t something to be ashamed of. Through all the many conversations we’ve had with people about grief, in the shops, in Grief Gatherings, on the street and online, we’ve learned so much, and the project carries this learning from place to place. This Grief Thing is a resource, a community, a declaration, and an attempt to bring grief into the light. Thanks for reading this blog: your engagement is another small step towards acceptance of grief; another small act of radical compassion; another gesture of solidarity in the face of unbearable loss.
As I write, we’re taking a pause from This Grief Thing while we work on new projects. We’ll be doing more Grief Gatherings and another online programme in summer 2023, and all the items from the collection are available from our online shop. If you want to keep in touch, sign up to our mailing list and you’ll be the first to know when the project is running. We’d love to see you at one of our events; we all need to talk about grief.
David Harradine
David Harradine is an artist, and co-founder of Fevered Sleep, making performances, installations, films, books and digital art. He’s Professor of Interdisciplinary Practice at The Royal Central School of Speech and Drama, University of London and is a trustee of Yorkshire Dance. Born into a rural, working class community in West Yorkshire, he now lives in York and London.
There’s much more to death than we think; what if it isn’t just an ending, but an event we can plan for? Thinking beyond the four walls of hospices and hospitals, we have the chance to approach it with confidence and plan a good death. After Wards is a collection of insights and ideas from people who can help us all to re-imagine this essential part of life, and to live well until we die.
