Paragon Funeral and Cremation Services

01/20/2026

You know what nobody tells you about grief?

People get weird.

Like, really weird.

It’s as if your loss suddenly flips a switch in their brain that makes them forget how to be human. One minute, they’re hugging you at the funeral, and the next, they’re saying something stupid.

I barely made it home from the funeral, seriously, I still had my suit and tie on, when someone looked at me with that sad, puppy-dog expression and said, “You’re young. You’ll find someone else.”

I think my soul left my body for a second. Because let me tell you, the last thing I wanted to hear at that moment was that I’d ‘find someone else.’ I wasn’t applying for a new job. I wasn’t shopping for a replacement. I had just lost my person.

Here’s the thing…I know most of the time, people don’t mean to be hurtful.

They just don’t know what to say.

Death makes everyone uncomfortable, and in their attempt to fill the silence, they blurt out something totally unhelpful.

Over the years, I’ve collected a list of classics:

• “Everything happens for a reason.”
• “They’re in a better place.”
• “At least they’re not suffering anymore.”
• “You should be grateful for the time you had.”

I mean, sure, all technically true, but maybe not the comfort I needed.

So what do you say to someone who’s grieving?

Honestly, something simple. Something true.

Try:

• “I don’t have the right words, but I’m here.”
• “This just sucks. I’m so sorry.”
• “Tell me about them.”

Because we don’t need clichés. We need hearts that stay. We need ears willing to listen and people brave enough to sit in the mess of it with us.

And if you ever find yourself about to say, “You’ll find someone else.”

Just don’t!

(Share this post because someone you love may benefit from it.)

Gary Sturgis – Surviving Grief

01/16/2026

Due to inclement weather and closed highways, today’s service for Irma Stevenson [Friday, January 16th at 1pm] has been postponed. Updated service information will be posted on our website and social media pages.

View Irma Stevenson's obituary, contribute to their memorial, see their funeral service details, and more.

01/10/2026

I get a lot of emails. A lot!

And if I had to sum up the most common question I receive, it would be this:

“How do I live again after losing someone I loved so much?”

Not “how do I move on”, because most of us already know that phrase makes our skin crawl.

But how do I live again? How do I wake up, breathe, and participate in a world that looks exactly the same, while feeling completely different inside?

Here’s something I’ve learned, something I wish someone had told me sooner, that living again doesn’t mean replacing what you lost. It means making room for connection in new, often unexpected ways.

For many people, especially after profound loss, the idea of opening your heart again feels almost dangerous. Like if you let ‘anything’ in, you’re somehow betraying the love you lost.

But connection doesn’t have to mean romance. It doesn’t have to mean commitment. Sometimes it’s simply just companionship.

It’s the neighbor who checks in. The friend who sits beside you without trying to fix anything.

The stranger who becomes a regular presence and reminds you that you still belong to the world.

Here’s the thing…those small connections often end up being the ones that heal us the most.

Not because they erase grief (they don’t), but because they remind us we’re still capable of feeling. Of laughing unexpectedly. Of caring again without guilt.

I’ll be honest, some days, opening your heart feels exhausting. Some days you’ll want to crawl back into emotional isolation because it feels safer there. And that’s okay too.

But if there’s something else I’ve learned, it’s that grief softens when it’s shared.

So if you’re wondering how to live again, maybe start small. A conversation. A coffee. A walk. A moment of connection that reminds you that your heart still works, even if it’s bruised and tender.

You don’t have to rush. You don’t have to ‘move on.’

You just have to stay open enough…to let life gently meet you where you are.

Gary Sturgis – Surviving Grief

01/09/2026

I hope you have glimmers of hope in January…

📝: Sara Christiansen Jeffs
IG:

01/01/2026

01/01/2026

12/24/2025

While we may have reduced office hours over the holidays, know that we are always available. Please call (306)359-7776 should you require our assistance.

Wishing you and your family a blessed Christmas

12/21/2025

This is such a wonderful cause and an amazing festive outing if you haven’t been! Our family enjoyed the lights last year and hope to make it an annual tradition.

Feel free to post photos of your family at the lights 🎄

Something I try to do every year is answer the question why? What made you start, why unit 1D and why do I keep going? You are going to get a pretty shortened version.

The 2 beauties in the picture are my daughter Jillian and Kokomo, when she was just a puppy. Jillian was given Kokomo by an Auntie and Uncle, when she was in unit 1D for the first time. Almost 11 years ago now. That’s when it all started.

One day I decided to buy Jillian some flowers, went to Safeway and ended up buying a whole bucket of carnations. I presented them to her with the instructions, keep what you want and give the rest away. After watching the faces light up and the hearts melt of those who received a single simple carnation, I just felt that this is something that I have to do again. Flower Fridays had begun. We are now in the 9th year of delivering 50 flowers, one for each patient, every second week.

All the other stuff. Jillian has been there more than once. That’s all I’m going to say about her, so I don’t get in too much trouble! The games, puzzles, pencil crayons, everything was the same as last time. Same pieces missing or broken and just nubs of pencil crayons in a basket with 6 or 8 whites. So we came up with a plan! Let’s invite friends, neighbours and family out for an evening bonfire out amongst the lights. I was already the crazy neighbour with 30,000 Christmas lights in the trees surrounding the fire. In that one first night we raised $1340.00, bought all new games puzzles, markers pencil crayons and arts and crafts. We did it and it felt great! Now on the 9th year of fundraising, it may have gotten bigger and we do so much more than we planned on originally but the goal has always stayed the same. Let’s make someone’s day on the unit, just a little bit better.

Why do I keep going? I’m told that most people, when their kids are no longer involved in something, move on to something else. Every time I am in one of the units, I see with my own eyes how it all helps. When you see the emotions that surface, when a woman who has never been given a flower, finally understands that one of them are for her. When you have past patients pull me aside, while they are at the lights and explain how much it meant to them. When you have staff send me messages, thanking me for supplying all the things to help them do their job. When parents of a teen in AU, thanking me for looking after the kids up there. When you have a young man in detox, come up to you , after asking “is this the guy,” say” We really appreciate what you do for all of us in here”. How can I stop?
What i get, for my well being, far exceeds what I put in. What I get out of this is so big, I always wonder why everyone doesn’t do it. Could find other things to do with the 700 plus hours a year all of this takes? Probably, although I would completely fill the time with something. I could fill the time, but it would never fill my tank like this does!

Boy the short version took a long time! I am going to talk about my daughter one more time, just to let you know that she is doing ok. She lives on her own in Ontario, and will be home in December, when dad’s place is a bit less crazy.

See you out in the lights!!
Ian

12/19/2025

This is Grief during the holidays.
A tangled…
Confusing..

Intertwined mess of emotions.

And the rude realization that..

The world goes on.
Lights are still strung. The towns are bustling.
Neighbors competing for the largest inflatable Santa.
The outside world from your grief looks..
Familiar and almost foreign at the same time.

You can see that the lights are shining but grief has its way of dimming them. Like a filter over your old life.

You hold on to them. And try.

But you are just trying to figure it all out. In a world so different but going on just the same.

But how? When one person is gone…
Your Person.. the whole world feels lonely.

Especially this time of the year.

And even the best display of twinkle lights can’t overcome the darkness.

You think you can untangle one emotion…only to be wrapped up in another..

Exhaustion and frustration sets in..

Wanting so badly to feel some of that old nostalgic feeling and shoving it all back in the storage bin and try again next year.

If you are holding on to this string of emotional confusion this year…

Know you are not alone.

There are many of us trying to figure out how to untangle this relentless sting.

And it’s ok to leave it.
Because you are working through enough as it is.
And pushing yourself to be festive in the most un-festive part of your life is just counterintuitive.

So you can just let it be.

But we also can hold on to the hope of working through some of these emotions in the year to come.

And maybe next year…when you look at your grief..
The shape may be different. You may be open to let some of the twinkle lights shine through the filter.

Just give yourself the gift of grace and time to work yourself through it.