Learning to Grieve Well: Reflections on My Grandmother’s Legacy and How Scandinavians Honor Loss

Grief has a way of asking us to slow down, even when the world keeps rushing ahead.

In the United States, we often struggle with how to make space for grief. We tell ourselves to “move on,” we apologize for our tears, and we fill the silence with busyness. Yet, the truth is that grief isn’t something to get over—it’s something to move through.

This past summer, after the death of my 103-year-old grandmother, I found myself wondering what it really means to grieve well. Her passing and the time spent with my family in Minnesota stirred something deep in me—both gratitude for her long, full life and curiosity about how people from different cultures create rituals around loss.

Remembering “Gram – The Matriarch”

We called her “Gram – the Matriarch,” and she truly was. She lived more than a century, and with that came a lifetime of stories, resilience, faith, and love.

Her memorial was small—just the immediate family, or as we like to say, “all the relies.” We gathered in Minnesota to celebrate her life together. It was simple, heartfelt, and deeply meaningful.

After the service, we spent a few days at my aunt and uncle’s lake cabin. There was laughter, storytelling, and tender reflection as we remembered Gram’s life—the good, the bad, and everything in between. Like all families, ours has its complexities, but there was something sacred about being together in that space.

Gram wasn’t perfect, but she softened over the years. Her faith deepened, her love expanded, and her gentleness grew. I could see her influence woven through generations—from my mom and her siblings, to my cousins and even the great-grandchildren running around the memorial chapel.

As we drove by the lake one evening, I thought about how healing it felt to remember her—not just as she was, but as she became. I wondered how other cultures hold space for grief in ways that honor both pain and beauty.

Wondering About “The Land of My People”

My grandmother’s parents were of Swedish and Norwegian descent, and much of my family’s lineage is rooted in Scandinavia. I’ve always felt a quiet connection to that part of the world, though I know little about how people there approach death and grief.

As I reflected on Gram’s life and our family gathering, I found myself wondering: How do people in Sweden and Norway grieve? How do they remember the ones they love?

What I discovered was that in Scandinavia, grief isn’t rushed. It’s ritualized. It’s public. It’s lit by candlelight.

Thousands of candles lighting up a Swedish cemetery during All Saints’ Weekend.

The Scandinavian Way of Remembering

In Sweden and Norway, grief is often expressed communally. Every year, during Allhelgonahelgen—All Saints’ Weekend—families visit cemeteries to honor those who have passed.

The tradition dates back centuries. On the first weekend of November, when daylight is short and the air turns cold, people bring candles and lanterns to gravesites. As evening falls, thousands of small lights flicker across the landscape.

The effect is breathtaking—soft, quiet, sacred. Cemeteries glow with warmth, transforming places of loss into places of love. Families walk together in silence or share gentle conversation, remembering those who came before them.

I was struck by how different this feels from what we often experience here in the U.S. Rather than pushing grief aside or avoiding the subject of death, Scandinavian cultures seem to give grief a visible, honored place in life. Lighting a candle becomes a spiritual act—a way of saying, “You are gone, but not forgotten. Your light still shines.”

Grief as Connection, Not Isolation

What I love most about the Scandinavian approach is that it allows grief to be shared. The act of walking among others who are also remembering reminds people they aren’t alone.

In my work providing grief counseling in San Diego, I often see how lonely grief can feel. Clients tell me they don’t want to burden others with their sadness, or that people around them seem uncomfortable when they bring up their loss. We live in a culture that often treats grief like something to hide instead of something to honor.

But grief, at its heart, is a form of love. It’s what happens when love has nowhere to go. And when we make space for it—through ritual, therapy, or simple acts of remembrance—it can soften us, not destroy us.

The Scandinavian candle-lighting tradition beautifully illustrates this. The light doesn’t erase the darkness; it transforms it. It reminds us that even in sorrow, beauty and connection can coexist.

Lessons for Us in America

I think many of us could learn from the Scandinavian way of grieving. We often look for closure when what we truly need is connection.

Here in the U.S., grief can feel rushed, isolated, and invisible. We tend to measure healing by how quickly someone “seems better.” Yet grief has its own rhythm—one that doesn’t conform to our schedules.

Through grief therapy in San Diego, I often help clients develop personal rituals of remembrance. Some light candles, others create small altars or memory boxes. Some visit the ocean and let the waves carry their prayers. These acts may be small, but they’re powerful because they give expression to what words cannot.

As Henri Nouwen wrote, “When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find it is those who have shared our pain.” Grief, when shared, becomes connection.

Bringing Ritual Into Everyday Grief

You don’t have to travel to Scandinavia to embrace this way of remembering. Here are a few ideas inspired by Allhelgonahelgen that can help you honor your own loss:

• Light a candle for your loved one each evening during the holidays. Watch the flame and allow yourself to feel whatever arises.

• Visit a meaningful place—perhaps a park, the ocean, or a place you once shared—and spend a few quiet moments remembering.

• Share stories with your family. Laughter and tears can coexist; both are part of love.

• Create a small remembrance table with photos, letters, or mementos. Let it be a space of comfort, not sadness.

Each of these rituals can serve as a reminder that love doesn’t end. It simply changes form.

Healing, Faith, and Legacy

When I think back to my grandmother’s memorial, I can still feel the peace that settled over us as we sang the final song together (lead by her sweet great-grandchildren)—“Go Now in Peace.”

It was a moment of release, but also of blessing. She had lived a long and full life. Her faith carried her, and in her final years, that faith seemed to soften her spirit even more.

That’s what I hope for anyone walking through grief: that in time, faith, love, and remembrance will soften what feels unbearable right now. That you’ll find small ways to honor the one you miss and, in doing so, begin to heal.

If you’re walking through loss, grief counseling in San Diego can help you find meaning and peace in the midst of pain. You can learn more about this work at my Grief Counseling in Chula Vista therapy page.

If your grief feels tied to old trauma or painful memories, you can also visit my Trauma Therapist Chula Vista page to learn how trauma-informed therapy can help you heal with care and compassion.

Looking Ahead

I plan to continue exploring how different cultures grieve—how communities around the world find beauty and connection in remembrance and discuss the various ways in which different types of loss can impact our lives. In future posts, I’ll reflect on traditions like Día de los Muertos in Mexico and All Saints’ Day in the Christian faith. Each of these rituals reminds us that there is no one “right” way to grieve—only meaningful ways to remember.

Closing Reflection

Lighting a candle in the darkness. Sharing stories by a lake. Singing a song of blessing.

These are the moments that remind us what grief really is—a continuation of love, a bridge between past and present, between what was and what remains.

May we all learn to grieve well. May we remember with gratitude. And may the light of those we’ve loved continue to guide us forward.

“The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”
(Psalm 121:8)

“Go now in peace, go now in peace,
May the love of God surround you,
Everywhere, everywhere, you may go.”

FAQ: Grief Therapy in San Diego

1. What does it mean to “grieve well”?

To grieve well doesn’t mean “getting over” a loss. It means allowing yourself to feel the full range of emotions that come with grief—sadness, love, gratitude, anger, even relief—without judgment. Through grief counseling in San Diego, you can learn to hold your pain with compassion and begin to find meaning in it.

2. How can cultural traditions help in the grieving process?

Cultural rituals give us structure and community when words aren’t enough. In Scandinavian culture, the candle-lighting tradition of Allhelgonahelgen offers a visible, collective expression of remembrance. Rituals like these remind us that love continues and that grief is something to be shared, not hidden.

3. Why do you think Americans struggle with grief?

In our culture, there’s often pressure to “move on” or stay strong. Many people feel they have to grieve privately. Other cultures tend to view grief as communal, public, and sacred—something that deserves time and space. Through grief therapy in San Diego, I help clients rediscover that space and give themselves permission to grieve openly and fully.

4. How can I bring grief rituals into my own life?

Start small. Light a candle for your loved one, write them a letter, cook their favorite meal, or share stories with family. These acts honor memory and create connection. In therapy, we can explore which rituals feel authentic to you and your beliefs.

5. What if I feel disconnected from my faith during grief?

That’s very common. Grief can challenge what we believe and raise spiritual questions we didn’t expect. Faith-based counseling can gently help you explore those feelings—without pressure, and always at your pace.

6. Can therapy help with grief that feels complicated or prolonged?

Yes. If your grief feels overwhelming or intertwined with past trauma, grief therapy can help you process the pain safely and find your way back to emotional balance. Trauma-informed care, like EMDR, can be especially helpful for clients whose losses have reopened old wounds.

7. How do I know if I’m ready for grief counseling?

If you feel stuck, numb, or find yourself avoiding reminders of your loss—or if you simply need someone to walk with you through this season—you’re ready. Therapy isn’t about rushing healing. It’s about creating space for it to unfold.

8. What should I expect in grief counseling sessions?

Each session is personalized. We’ll talk about your loved one, explore your emotional landscape, and develop ways to care for yourself through the grief process. You’ll learn coping tools, mindfulness practices, and ways to honor your loss while moving forward.

9. Do you offer faith-based grief counseling?

Yes. For those who wish, faith can be an important part of the healing process. I integrate faith-based values when requested but always respect each client’s spiritual beliefs and background.

10. How can I start grief counseling in San Diego?

I offer a free 15-minute phone consultation where we can talk about your needs and what you hope to gain from therapy. You can contact me through my contact page to schedule your consultation and begin your journey toward peace and healing.