The story of my dad and I is a short one. On August 1st 2016, my best friend left the world at 11.30am. After a long and difficult battle with cancer he slipped quietly from us with those he loved most by his side.

A strong, kind, caring and charismatic man who many loved and who I adored has since been missed by many and will be missed for as long as his memory lives.

In July 2015 he was told he had a brain tumour and one week later he was told it was terminal. From diagnosis we believed he’d be lucky to see out another year and with that he began his treatment, which he later told me he regretted, to prolong what short time he had left.

Watching someone you love turn to ash is a strange feeling. I often think I’d have preferred not to watch him go from the strong, tough image of a man I knew to a darkened shadow quietly sat half tapping a foot to the music in the background unable to open his eyes or join in conversation. That he had been taken one night and that was that - no drawn out illness no heartache and no stress and confusion - though I wouldn’t have told him how much I loved him and heard him tell me back.

As the days, weeks and months pass from him leaving the pain I feel remains. No part of me misses him less nor does my memory of him fade. He is, and always will be, my best friend and the person I love the most. I acknowledge my grief is mine and I am proud to have the pain for the pain reflects the man he was and the love I have for him.

So, as I said, my story is a short one even though the love I have is vast and unmeasurable. To you old man.

In May 2019, I married the love of my life. Just a few weeks later my husband, Pete, received a terminal cancer diagnosis after previously twice surviving it.

Pete died exactly 100 days before our first wedding anniversary. My grief was further compounded when, a few months later, my Dad and my cat both died. Pete and I had had a miscarriage prior to our wedding, whom I also continued to mourn.

I’ve always struggled with my mental health and it felt like cosmic punishment. I was broken, and could see no point in going on.

My mental health spiralled and on the first anniversary of Pete’s death, I attempted to take my life. A few weeks later, I found TNN.

Hearing Ben and Jack talk, I convinced myself to try a Good Grief meeting online. I talked, cried uncontrollably, and shared my story. The other attendees reassured me that I didn’t need to censor my grief. I finally felt some relief and seen by people who really understood.

I continued to attend and slowly started to acknowledge that although I had no hope, there may be the possibility of hope.

Without a doubt, The New Normal saved my life. I still struggle every day, but I have an empathetic community to go through it alongside.

Since then, I’ve set up the Partner Loss meeting and have become the charity’s Operational Lead. I am honoured to have the opportunity to provide, and develop, that same life-changing support for others going through their own loss and grief. My journey continues, only because of The New Normal. And mine is only one story.

Hi, my name is Jess. You’ll find me hosting Good Grief in Hong Kong.

My Dad, Neil, died in September 2020. He didn’t die from Covid, but he died during Covid in the U.K., which meant there was much less support for at-home care. I struggled to cope with his end-of-life care and death and sought help quite soon after he died.

I was told that unless I was in crisis, the wait time would be six months for talking therapy, with an alternative to go private. By chance, I found TNN charity when a friend reshared a post by Ben and Jack, the founders. I joined their online peer support groups from lockdown in the U.K.

All I needed at the time was someone to say “I was you 1/2/6 years ago, and I promise you things will become less painful in time and better memories will return”. And for me, this is the value of peer support. Normal people using their own experiences to help each other.

Six months after joining my first peer support group, I moved to Hong Kong. And one year after joining that peer support group, we launched our Good Grief meetings in Hong Kong in January 2022.

Losing my 18yr old son, Brandon, has totally blown my life as I knew it into a world of sadness and deep grief and the loss of my child.

I felt like half of me died with him. How can you be normal again? My only son was gone, leaving me just my daughter.

Finding The New Normal after only 10 weeks was a huge comfort to me. It allowed me a space to talk about Brandon openly, about my feelings and struggles, and also to listen to other people's grief journeys.

TNN made me feel I was not alone: there were others going through grief, and the rollercoaster it takes you on.

I felt that people who were further along than me were able to help and share their experience with me, and there was never any pressure to talk or to attend every session.

It became something I needed; friendly people all feeling the same things about their loved ones who they had lost.

TNN is an amazing find for people that have lost someone. Finding TNN has definitely been my saving grace. It is a long road, after losing a child.

But knowing the ups and downs I face daily can be supported by the TNN community, has made me feel like I can, and will, be okay in time. I am learning to adapt to my New Normal.