Grief, Growth, and Glitter: Moving Forward

So, it’s been a week since we said goodbye to a loved one, and while the tears are still fresh (especially when I’m trying to hide in the bathroom for five minutes of peace), we’re also finding new ways to celebrate life and death. As a witchy family, we embrace the whole circle-of-life thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s all moonlit rituals and serene reflections. Oh no, grief in this house looks more like glitter-covered chaos, naming ceremonies, and kids who believe they can summon spirits to answer their homework questions.

The kids have taken this whole “honour the dead” thing and run with it. Two of the girls are still convinced our loved one is now a fox, and they’ve started leaving little “offerings” for them in the garden. I’m talking about sticks, leaves, and a half-eaten sandwich they decided the fox would “definitely love.” While I appreciate their enthusiasm, I’m fairly certain we’re just inviting the local badgers for a snack.

The eldest, ever the serious soul, has been talking to the spirit world like it’s no big deal. “Mum, I saw and spoke to gran last night,” they told me over breakfast, as casually as you’d discuss the weather. Meanwhile, the boy blissfully unaware of the bigger picture, is still just worried about how the dog has taken one of his teddies again and it will hurt the teddies feelings. He walks around with his juice and snacks, offering them to anyone who will take one, including the family dog, and then cries when he actually does take one.

While we’ve been navigating grief, life keeps on doing its thing. Between the usual chaos of unschooling four kids, we’ve been weaving in little rituals and moments to remember our loved one. It’s amazing how kids handle grief; one minute they’re deep in thought, wondering if Gran is hanging out with fairies, and what she might be doing now and the next, they’re covered in mud and shouting about how they’ve “discovered a magical rock” (aka a regular rock, but sure, magic it is).

We took another one of our walks again this week. The kids are convinced the trees can hear us, and maybe they can, who knows? Either way, it was peaceful well, as peaceful as it gets with four kids, a dog, and a lot of questions about whether foxes can talk in the afterlife. Spoiler: I don’t have a definitive answer.

As witches, we believe that grief is a process, not something to rush through or “get over.” It’s part of the natural ebb and flow of life, like the tides, the phases of the moon, and the fact that the 7 year old will always find a way to get glitter on the altar. It’s messy and magical, and it connects us to something bigger than ourselves.

This week, we’ve been talking more about what we believe happens when someone passes. The kids know that in our witchy way of thinking, energy doesn’t just disappear. Our loved ones live on in different ways sometimes as spirits we can talk to, sometimes as the wind in the trees, and, in so many many ways.

We’ve also started a little ritual of lighting a candle each evening. It’s nothing too formal because let’s be honest, formality doesn’t really fit our style but it’s a quiet moment where we think about our loved one and send our love their way. Some nights, it’s a heartfelt pause. Other nights, it’s more like, “Mum, can I have juice and a snack now?” But hey, we’re doing our best here.

The truth is, life goes on even when you’re grieving. We still have messes to clean, spells to cast, and kids who think it’s hilarious to hide the broomstick (which, side note, is not funny when you’re trying to sweep the kitchen after a day of unschooling disasters). But in all of that, there’s beauty. Grief doesn’t have to be heavy all the time. Sometimes, it’s light, it’s laughter, it’s leaving half eaten sandwiches for foxes, and it’s realizing that the ones we’ve lost are still with us in ways we might not expect.

So, we carry on. We honour our loved one by living, by laughing, by teaching the kids that it’s okay to feel sad, and also okay to find joy in the everyday chaos of our little world. There are still frogs to name, spells to practice, and, of course, more glitter to clean up. Always more glitter.

In the end, we’re moving forward—one magical, messy day at a time.

The Unschooling Witchy Mum