Good Mourning was built from our personal experiences with grief, and our mission is that no one should have to navigate loss alone.
In our early thirties, we were hit by a huge curveball, and faced with something that we knew existed, but were in no way prepared for: grief. Our mums died suddenly within months of each other, and life changed in an instant. We found ourselves asking questions like “How long does grief last?” and searching for the true grief meaning. But nothing spoke to us in a way that felt real or helpful. We struggled to find relatable grief support for millennials like us.
Coping with grief was way harder than we could’ve imagined – the sheer magnitude of the experience shocked us. We both realised that much of what society tells you about grief, like the so-called Five Stages of Grief – didn’t really align with what we were experiencing. There were so many myths and misconceptions about what grief should look like, and we quickly found that the grief definition and explanations we found via grief-induced Google searches didn’t speak to the raw and real emotions we were feeling.
We craved real stories and honest conversations about the cycle of grief – something genuine and free from clinical jargon. And we had a hunch that others out there coping with the confusion and loneliness of loss must be feeling the same way.
Grief felt lonely and isolating, despite both having support, and we both craved stories of others who were experiencing mother loss – but they were hard to come by. This led us both to search for support with women who truly “get it.” I eventually connected with Motherless Daughters Australia – an organisation that helps daughters cope with grief and loss after the death of a mother.
We became friends and began to share our experiences with each other. We agreed there was more space for resources that spoke about grief in a conversational and relatable way, sparking the idea for Good Mourning. We wanted to create a space where people could find grief support that was compassionate, real, and most importantly, honest.
Our personal experiences of loss — sudden, unexpected, and deeply life-altering — became the foundation for Good Mourning, a place where compassion, connection, and honest conversations about grief are at the heart of everything we do.
Today, the Good Mourning grief podcast has reached over one million downloads, helping people worldwide find support and connection in their own grief. It started off as a podcast and has grown into a book, a global community, and a go-to resource for all things grief and personal growth.
Whether you’re searching for what to say to a grieving person, collating ideas on how to manage grief fatigue, looking for books about grief, or trying to understand how to keep dealing with grief long after the world expects you to “move on,” we’re here to offer guidance, resources, and community.
As ambassadors for Griefline, a national not-for-profit organisation that supports anyone experiencing grief, we’re proud to be changing the way we talk about grief.
Together, let’s build a future where no one feels isolated in their loss.
My mum, Rose died from SUDEP (Sudden Unexpected Death in Epilepsy) in November 2019. She was only 64.
In an instant, my life shifted from “life is good” to “life can’t get any worse.” Suddenly, I found myself facing the intense grief that comes with mother loss, feeling lost and unsure how to navigate this overwhelming experience.
I’d gone from sunny Sydney to sitting in my mum’s front room in the UK frantically Googling things like ‘how does cremation work?’ ‘how to write a eulogy for your mother’ and ‘how long does grief last?’
I swung from heartache to fear to sadness, exhausted but running on adrenaline, feeling like I was going mad. This experience of grief was nothing like I had imagined or how it’s portrayed in popular culture. The expectations versus reality were wildly different, and I couldn’t believe how little grief was acknowledged or talked about.
It was through the grief support group Motherless Daughters Australia that I met Im, and from that moment, things started to feel a little easier. I felt an instant bond, knowing we shared a profound understanding of mother loss and could lean on each other in ways others couldn’t understand.
I miss my mum each and every day, and I am honoured to channel her memory through the work we do, keeping her spirit alive. I know she is cheering us on from wherever she may be, and I’m grateful to be on this journey with Im, creating a space for others to find support, just like we did.
The day my world changed, I was nine months into being a first-time, exhausted new mum. Amidst the chaos of moving house one rainy Saturday morning in February 2020, with boxes everywhere and removalists shuffling in and out, I was juggling breastfeeding and directing where everything should go. I began to picture this next chapter of my life in my new home – a home that my mum was meant to move into with me the following day. She never made it.
I got a call to tell me that my mum, Vanessa, who had never shown signs of mental health struggles, had died by suicide. The shock was incomprehensible. I spent the next six months investigating my mum’s death and searching for answers, trying to make sense of what had happened. This process added multiple layers to my grief, making it harder to find the comfort I needed as a survivor of suicide loss.
Any challenges I faced as a new mum faded in comparison. I had lost someone to suicide, and life now felt meaningless. My days became an endless nightmare, my nervous system was in overdrive, and I was soon diagnosed with PTSD. I felt completely and utterly broken.
Although I had support from friends and family, I still felt an overwhelming loneliness. Everyone was coping with the loss in their own way, grieving on different notes, and I felt desperate to connect with someone who truly understood the unique pain of coping with suicide loss. I longed to hear someone say, ‘It’s normal to feel lonely. It’s normal to feel like a shell of your former self. And yes, it’s normal to see life through a completely different lens now.’
Although our friendship started at the worst time in my life, meeting Sal changed everything for me and provided the support I was searching for. Little did I know that a brief encounter at a pub would change my life forever.
A grief book that’s been called ‘uplifting’ by readers, Good Mourning: Honest Conversations About Grief and Loss is the compassionate grief survival guide for anyone who’s been rocked by loss.
You can now support us on Patreon for just $5 AUD/month / $3.50 USD / £2.50 (less than a coffee). Your support helps us keep building meaningful, grief-supportive content for the people who need it most.
Changing the way we think and talk about grief, one honest conversation at a time.
