Harrod Grief Works

08/23/2025

One man’s beautiful video tribute to the unbearable loss of his wife ❤️‍🩹

An OIF Film Challenge film. Based on actual events. In loving memory of Wendy Speigner.See the Extended Version here: https://youtu.be/Sqpg3bNyiHs WINNERBEST...

08/17/2025

Grief is like glitter.

The moment your world shatters, it’s as if someone threw it into the air — and it rained down over everything. It settles into your skin, your hair, the deepest cracks of your life.

You try to sweep it up, desperate to feel in control of something. You think you’ve cleared it away… until it shows up again. Months later. Years later. In the corner of a picture frame you dust every week. On the sleeve of a sweater you’ve worn a dozen times without noticing it was there. Stuck to the floor where the light hits just right and suddenly it’s undeniable again.

You’ll never get it all. It will always be there — this glitter of grief, catching the light in both beautiful and brutal ways.

08/16/2025

Widow preserved her husband’s tattoo after he passed away 💙

1.5M likes, 17.2K comments. “Everyone’s asking how we preserved my husband’s tattoo… This is just one piece of the story, but there is so much more to tell. But I want you to know how we did this, and why it mattered so much. 🖤”

08/16/2025

It could be sooner than you think… enjoy ALL the moments, big & small. Don’t take the people you love for granted. Our time with ea other is so precious and we have no control on when it will end. 💔

08/12/2025

Who else struggles with “grief brain”? 🧠

07/08/2025

When I lost my husband, Justin Harrod, I heard a wide range of responses—some deeply unkind and uninformed, and others genuinely thoughtful and compassionate.

The truth is, most people simply don’t know what to say in the face of such unimaginable loss. Losing a spouse or a child is every person’s greatest fear, and there is nothing and there are no words that will make it better.

But if anything has ever brought me even a moment of comfort, it’s this:
I believe with all my heart that Justin is alive and well in the presence of Jesus.
He’s not the one suffering—we are. As painful as it is, I remind myself that God chose him. He got to go home.

I have envisioned a picture similar to the one below many times and it has been the only thing that has ever brought any peace or calm.

I hope it does the same for the parents, siblings, grandparents, family and friends who are missing their loved ones tonight. As a mom of 2 little girls my heart just breaks for them.

And while our hearts ache for the presence of our loved ones, they are the lucky ones. 🌈🕊️

06/23/2025

❤️‍🩹

06/06/2025

We all have a bag.
We all pack differently.
Some of us are traveling light.
Some of us are secret hoarders who've never parted with a memory in our lives. I think we are all called to figure out how to carry our bag to the best of our ability, how to unpack it, and how to face the mess. I think part of growing up is learning how to sit down the floor with all your things and figuring out what to take with you and what to leave behind.
Only love makes the baggage light…

🖊Hannah Brencher
🎨 Samantha Jordaan

06/06/2025

06/04/2025

A Letter from Grief-

I come to you without words, yet every person in every land knows me. I weigh heavy on your chest, fog your mind, and leave a hollow ache in your heart. I am the constant reminder of what is gone—the gaping void left by someone you loved deeply.

I am the invisible presence, wreaking havoc with your thoughts, turning even the sunniest day into ruins.

You cannot escape me. I move in silence, loud only to the one I visit, forcing you to walk through life as if I am not there. I am a scrapbook of memories, an unwanted guest who lingers.

You push me away, bury me beneath forced smiles and busy days, but I remain, hiding in the corners of your mind, whispering their name in quiet moments. I resurface in echoes of laughter that once filled your world, unearthing the volcano of emotions buried deep within you.

I come in waves—sometimes a sudden torrent, crashing over you with unbearable sorrow, leaving you gasping for air. Other times, I am a dull, persistent ache, your unwelcome companion. I hold up fragments of your pain, anger, and disbelief, forcing you to face the depth of your loss. I thrive on your emotions, trusting your memory to fuel my purpose, and I rarely find it lacking.

You may resent me, blame me, or blame yourself. You may search endlessly for what could have been done differently. But know this: I am not your enemy. I am the consequence of love, proof of the deep connection you shared. In the beginning, I am relentless. I invade your dreams with vivid images, turning sweet moments into haunting nightmares. I whisper lies that life is no longer worth living. But even as I torment, my purpose is not to destroy.

My role is difficult yet necessary, like that of an undertaker—unwanted but vital. I am here to guide you through loss, a process as painful as it is essential. The work of mourning is hard, and only you can do it. Yet, through this work comes transformation. Over time, my sharp edges will soften. The unbearable weight of pain will shift into gentler memories—smiles, whispers, and love will replace horror.

Let me stay as long as you need me. I promise to step back when it becomes too much and return only when you call. I know my role well, and I am here to help you navigate the road ahead. Embrace the tears, lean on those around you, and trust that this process, though grueling, is a testament to the love you still carry. In time, you will find a way to carry that love forward, not as a burden but as a source of strength.

Your Friend,
Grief