Holding Space for Grief in All Its Forms

In April 2022, my world changed forever when I lost my precious son, Azan.

In the earliest days of grief, everything felt overwhelming from making decisions about his resting place to trying to understand traditions, resources, and logistics when my heart could barely process what had happened.

Just months later, I also lost my father. One loss layered on top of another, and I found myself navigating what I would later understand as compounded grief.

I was searching for answers, support, and guidance, but so much of the information I needed was scattered or simply didn't exist in one place. During a time when I had very little capacity to search, I kept thinking about how difficult it was to know where to turn

But something else began happening as I moved through my own healing.

I met people carrying grief that looked very different from mine. Some were grieving a person. Others were navigating pregnancy loss, infertility, illness, divorce, caregiving, changes in identity, or a life that no longer looked the way they imagined it would.

Their experiences were different, but underneath them was something deeply familiar: the need to feel seen, supported, and less alone.

That realization became the beginning of Light of Grief.

What started as a late-night conversation with my sister grew into a nonprofit rooted in care, community, and the belief that grief deserves to be held in all its forms.

Today, Light of Grief supports our community in three ways.

Through Gather & Heal, we create healing-centered experiences that offer space to slow down, reconnect, and experience different pathways toward healing.

Through Learn & Grow, we provide trusted resources, education, conversations, and tools that help people better understand and navigate grief and life's transitions.

And through Held in Care, we work to remove barriers to healing through compassionate guidance, healing access, practical assistance, and community care.

My own healing experiences have shaped much of this work. They taught me how to find moments of peace in uncertainty, how to listen to what my body was asking for, and how powerful it can be simply to have somewhere safe to land.

Light of Grief has Muslim roots, but our community is open to everyone. Grief does not belong to one religion, culture, background, or experience and neither does healing.

My hope is for Light of Grief to become a trusted place people know they can turn to when life changes in ways they never expected. A place where someone can walk through the door without having to explain why their grief is worthy of support.

Because grief can look different for every person. Some of us keep functioning while quietly falling apart inside. Others may find it difficult just to get through the day. There is no hierarchy of grief and no single way to carry it.

Sometimes what we need most is simply to be held and reminded that we are not alone.

What began in one of the darkest seasons of my life has become a way to create light for others.

Azan's light will always be at the heart of this work. His life continues to guide the mission of Light of Grief and reminds me why this community exists.

Founder & President, Light of Grief