Paragon Funeral and Cremation Services

02/18/2026

One of the hardest things to face and endure when grieving is the loneliness.

Grievers often feel lonely even when they are surrounded by family and friends. People feel lonely at work, at home, when out to dinner with friends, at a party, and when in the middle of a crowded room.

Grief can be isolating and the grieving sometimes feel like they are the only one. The only one who is feeling the claws of grief and feeling the pain deep in their bones.

It can feel like no one gets this new version of you and no one truly understands. And the truth is, no one can completely walk in your shoes or know exactly what you are feeling from one day to the next.

Grief is personal and there are so many variables that can influence your own journey through grief. Even when loved ones are grieving the same person as you, their grief experience will be different.

But here's the thing, even when grief is lonely, you are not completely alone. There are so many people who have walked the path of grief before you, and people who are walking it right now.

Grief is a universal experience. I have said it so many times before. It doesn’t have to divide any of us but rather can unite us through our shared experiences with grief and loss.

Even though no two losses or grief experiences are exactly the same, there is a thread of compassion and understanding that weaves through human beings who have come to know loss and grief. It may not completely take the loneliness away, but finding people who "get" grief can ease the loneliness just a bit and help you to feel less alone.

There are people who want to help and will show up with compassion and try to support you through the deep hurt and pain. Whether it's a complete stranger, someone in this community, me, or a family member or friend, hold on to them. Lean on them. Don't walk this path completely alone.

I know how lonely grief is and I'm hoping this page offers you a safe, less lonely place to land.

With love - michele

02/10/2026

Please sign this petition….

It is very frustrating and maddening for us, as funeral professionals, to see the trauma that families experience when scammers benefit from stolen obituary content.

The theft of obituaries needs to stop! 🛑

Also, this is a reminder to ONLY share obituaries from trusted websites, such as the funeral home or newspaper.

Obituary Piracy Petition Filed With House of Commons

Funeral professionals and families continue to be frustrated by the publication of obituaries on third-party websites, which profit from the sales of flowers, tree planting and memorial products/keepsakes. The families are not asked for permission to place the obituaries on these sites and are often unaware that they exist.

A petition has been filed with the House of Commons asking the federal government to ban this practice. The petition is open for signatures until 4:52 pm (EDT) on February 26, 2026.
To see the petition, go to: https://www.ourcommons.ca/petitions/en/Petition/Details?Petition=e-6997

02/10/2026

No two losses are the same and no two grief experiences are the same. There are so many variables that come into play when it comes to how deeply one grieves and everyone will grieve differently.

All loss matters and shouldn't be compared but grief is deeply personal and there are those losses that cut so deep, it hurts in ways the outside world struggles to understand - until it happens to them.

One of the phrases I hear often is, "I can't imagine" but I think people CAN imagine if they really think about it. I too have said it, but when I try to put myself in other's shoes and as one devastating example, really think about what it would mean to lose my own child or grandchild, I CAN imagine and it scares me beyond words. It's a heartbreak I never want to experience and my heart hurts for anyone who is grieving for their children or grandchildren.

The same can be true for so many losses. Losses I have experienced and as so many of you know, Loss is never easy and regardless of who has died, it hurts and it sucks.

I think people CAN imagine and it's one of the reasons they are uncomfortable with death and grief. To imagine or think too much leaves people feeling vulnerable and it's a reminder that bad things happen in life and it could happen to them.

But here's the thing, we as grievers who have experienced the death of loved ones know firsthand how painful it is. And we need the outside world to imagine just how awful it is, and to show up with love, support, and compassion.

Grief is lonely and it hurts even more when family, friends, and colleagues stop showing up, saying their names, telling stories, and checking in. I would like to believe if people allowed themselves to imagine how difficult it would be to lose someone they love, it would lead to better support, understanding, connection, and compassion. All things we as grievers need.

I have deep compassion for anyone grieving the death of someone they love because I know just how heartbreaking it is. I'm sending love to you and your grieving heart - I CAN imagine how devastated you feel.

Michele

02/02/2026

It’s Groundhog Day.

Again!

The one morning we collectively turn our attention to a chubby meteorologist with whiskers and hope he’ll tell us something different than last year.

I can’t help but think how grief has its own version of Groundhog Day. That feeling of waking up, hoping you’ll feel ‘different’ and then realizing that today looks a lot like yesterday.

And the day before that.

The ache hasn’t gone. The world keeps moving forward, but internally, you can feel stuck in a loop.

Some mornings, grief feels so predictable. You wake up, remember, hurt, function (sort of), and then repeat the whole routine all over again. Other days, pain pops up in a new and different way.

The tricky part is that grief doesn’t come with a weather prediction. No fuzzy groundhog pops out to announce, “Six more weeks of sleepless nights.” or “Five more days and you won’t be crying anymore.”

We grievers have to stumble through the shadows on our own, listening for tiny signs of change that might come sneaking back in, or a small moment that doesn’t hurt quite as much.

Here’s the thing…the good news is grief does start to shift.

The light changes and you start seeing more good days than hard ones. And I believe that’s what healing looks like. Not one big transformation, but a slow unwinding.

It’s realizing that while some days will feel like reruns, others begin to write a new script, one filled with memory, love, and even moments of joy you never thought would return.

So today...as Punxsutawney Phil does his annual forecast, let’s give ourselves permission to live our own version of Groundhog Day with a little grace.

If it’s another day of sadness…okay.

If it’s a day of light…celebrate it.

Either way…both are part of the season…and spring always finds its way back.

Gary Sturgis – Surviving Grief

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