PART FIVE OF A SIX-WEEK SERIES
Daily: Creating Rituals
for Loved Ones
Grief is a complicated, five-letter word.
BY ALLISON DAILY
"when the wave of reality hits, I encourage people not to run from it."
Erin McGrath and Paul Strain moved to Aspen this July. They are a blended family with six children; the youngest three are theirs together. On Sept. 19, what began as a typical day quickly shifted into tragedy when their son Xander (2 ½) drowned while under the care of a babysitter. There are no words to describe the horror of what they endured, as the doctors and nurses at Aspen Valley Hospital worked valiantly to revive their son — to no avail.
I was with them in the emergency room and again as they returned home to share with their other children the devastating news. To witness this life-changing moment was brutal; to be Erin, Paul, and their five remaining children is simply beyond words. Since that day, Xander has not left my mind, and he certainly hasn’t left theirs.
Surviving a loss like this is indescribable. It means finding one small thing each day to hold onto — something that enables you to take your next breath, get out of bed, and summon the strength to keep living for the people you love. It means acknowledging the days you don’t want to go on and honoring yourself on the days you do. Grief can mean asking the same questions repeatedly while resisting the temptation to spiral into the rabbit hole of darkness. It also means riding the relentless waves of grief.
When the wave of reality hits, I encourage people not to run from it — instead, acknowledge it. Witness yourself being knocked down, then carefully get back up — even knowing another wave will come. Over time, the waves change shape, intensity, and force. If we can honor and respect these waves as part of the intense humility that loss requires, we can be present with our emotions and connect with the one we loved and lost. In a way, grief teaches us a new definition of surrender, which, to me, is part of our most intimate connection with those we have lost.
The magnitude of the Strains’ loss, especially under such tragic circumstances, is deeply complex. It brings a whirlwind of emotions — anger, self-blame, hopelessness, and the unanswerable question: How could this happen? These feelings are not only natural in grief but essential to the process of healing. I encourage those grieving to allow themselves to feel it all. When I first meet parents mourning the loss of a child, our time is often spent simply holding space for their darkest thoughts and rawest emotions. In those moments of profound darkness, a faint glimmer of light can sometimes begin to emerge.
There's a truth to the saying:
“The night is darkest just before the dawn.”
Grief, at its depths, can offer a pathway to resilience, a slow and painful ascent toward hope. This journey is neither swift nor linear. It’s about riding the relentless waves of grief, sometimes barely finding the strength to rise to a kneeling position. Yet, even in the depths, the kindness of others can cast the first spark of light, reminding us that we are not alone and that hope, though fragile, still exists.
Paul and Erin will tell you that my support, care, and constant presence have been significant. And it has. However, perhaps the most invaluable source of comfort has been this community. Since Xander’s passing, Pathfinders Angels volunteers and parents from their children’s classes have brought weekly meals to their family. Paul and Erin have told me how deeply moving it was in those early days to have meals quietly dropped off in a gesture of reverence and compassion for their pain. In recent months, meaningful conversations and heartfelt connections with others have been life changing. They shared, “To have people who don’t know us show up with a meal and a kind word and to enfold us with their care has meant the world to all of us. Our faith in this world has been restored because of it.”
Tomorrow marks the winter solstice, the darkest day of the year before the gradual return of light. For the Strain family, many dark days still lie ahead. The loss of a child is an unfathomable tragedy, and their healing will take time. Yet, as they navigate this darkness, our community has been a beacon of light, offering support and solace in the way we often do.
With the holidays here, I want to honor those who are grieving. How can you honor the one you have lost, the one whose love and presence still fills the room? I encourage you to create a ritual or new tradition with your loved one in mind. It can feel uncomfortable at first, but it is better than ignoring the pain. If we can honor the darkness of our grief, we can also invite in the light of their love and memory.
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Allison Daily is the Executive Director and Head Grief Counselor of Pathfinders.
VIDEO BY MATTHEW J ROLLINS
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