HeyJaredGrace & Grit Letters - Where grace meets grief by Angie Hanson
Grace & Grit Letters is where grace meets grief. I’m Angie—writer, grief educator, and founder of Butterflies + Halos—sharing honest letters about loss, faith, resilience, and the long way through.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 10
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- Sep 23, 2026
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- Jul 8, 2026
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I’m Not the Expert on Your Grief. You Are. (opens the original)
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Lately, I’ve been thinking about the word “expert.”More specifically, I’ve been thinking about what it means when someone calls themselves a grief expert.I understand why the term exists. There are people who have spent years studying grief, supporting grieving families, conducting research, counseling clients, and learning how loss affects us emotionally, physically, spiritually, and relationally.That knowledge matters.Training matters.Lived experience matters too.But the longer I spend in the
Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning? (opens the original)
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Thirty Years After “I Do” (opens the original)
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Today would have been our 30th wedding anniversary.Thirty years since Jack and I stood before the people we loved and promised:For better or worse.In sickness and in health.Till death do us part.We had no idea how much those vows would ask of us.We lived the better and the worse. We held onto one another through the unimaginable grief of losing our son, Garret. We faced sickness, heartbreak, and eventually death. We lived those vows fully—not perfectly, but faithfully, honestly, and with a love
The Problem with Grief Is That Everyone Remembers the Ending Differently (opens the original)
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There is a strange thing that happens when a family loses someone. We all walk out of the same hospital room, funeral home, church, or cemetery believing we have lived through the same ending. But we haven’t. Not exactly. We each carry away our own version.One person remembers the final conversation. Another remembers the phone call. Someone else remembers who arrived first, who didn’t come at all, what the doctor said, or what the minister forgot to mention. One person remembers peace. Another
The Problem With Grief Is That Someone Still Has to Handle Everything (opens the original)
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When my husband Jack died, I didn’t stop being part of his family.Technically, I suppose the words changed. I became the widowed daughter-in-law. Later, when I remarried, the labels became even more complicated.But love doesn’t pay much attention to technicalities.Neither does responsibility.Life continued after Jack died because life has the audacity to do that. It keeps moving, keeps changing, and occasionally keeps throwing more crap at people who have already had more than their fair share.J
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