Each May we observe Mental Health Awareness Month. It is a time to remind ourselves that we have no idea what another person is carrying, be it mental health issues, grief and loss, or some other life-changing stressor. Remembering this helps us to show compassion and kindness to one another.

As we often say at the Brian Dagle Foundation, “there is always hope,” and that is just as true this month. It is okay not to be okay. It is okay to ask for help. It is okay to need help!

SAMSHA (the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Administration) recently wrote an article entitled “Every Mental Health Journey Begins with Being Seen.” I hope you will take a few minutes to read it. They remind us “The way we respond to someone who is struggling can either reinforce stigma or support recovery. A simple act—checking in, listening without judgment, or helping someone connect to care—can make a meaningful difference.”

You can make a difference this Mental Health Awareness Month! Check in on someone, even if it is a quick note that says “thinking of you.” Listen without judgement, remembering that we can’t always understand another’s experience but we can be present to it. And if someone asks for help, you can connect them with someone who can provide the care they need.

Thank you for being part of making hope real in the world,
Ann Dagle & the Brian Dagle Foundation Family

Know someone who is struggling and not sure what to do? Call or text 988 for help any time.

As we approach Brian’s birthday, April 2nd, each year, my thoughts constantly wander to Brian. It is difficult to believe he was only 19 years old when he left us. I often find myself wondering what he would be like now at 34.

How do you feel about your own loved one’s presence after their passing? Do you find yourself talking or writing to them, or sharing the details of your daily life?

For me, talking to Brian makes me feel as though he is still here. Shortly after his death, beach walks became our sacred time together. There were many walks where the tears flowed as I told him I didn’t understand, pleading for his help to get me through. I truly believe he listened, as I have found the strength to survive.

During these walks, I connect with him by writing his name in the sand. I have kept up this tradition even on vacations, from Ireland to South Africa, as a way of keeping him with me wherever I go. I like to think he would find it quite cool to see his name on beaches across the world.

There are also times when random thoughts pop into my head and our conversations begin. Whether he is encouraging me to “go for it,” telling me to “knock it off” when I am having negative thoughts, or simply saying, “I love you, Mother,” these moments always bring a smile to my face. While I cannot say for certain if Brian is talking to me, I know that I can see him smiling at me, and I feel his ever-present love with me always.

If you’re looking for a way to talk to your loved ones who have died, I invite you to come visit the wind phone in our healing garden. You can sit on a bench and as you speak into the phone, your words go off onto the wind. Find other wind phone locations here.

Additionally, Postal Service for the Dead is a program where you can mail your loved ones a letter. Find more information on how to participate here.

I hope you find ways to connect with the family and friends who have died that feels comforting and encourages you along your healing journey. 

With love,

Ann

The Brian’s Healing Hearts’ library is undergoing a refresh! As our mission states, in addition to providing support for grieving adults, we are dedicated to providing the community with grief education. One of the ways we can do that is by having a comprehensive library focused on grief and the grieving process. 

You may have noticed there is a new sign out procedure for books in the library; this is to help keep track of the resources we have as well as give us helpful information about what resources we would like to add.

Is there a topic or author you would like to see added to our library? We are looking to expand our selection on grief in general, but also in more specific topics related to grief and loss.

If you have borrowed a book and not yet returned it, please do so at your earliest convenience. We are cataloguing the books we have to help us decide what books to buy.

It takes a lot of courage to grieve. It can be scary to feel so deeply and allow yourself to be vulnerable. But choosing to mourn (actively grieve) is how you begin to heal. Mourning honors our loved ones because we decide to carry our love for them into our healing.

When you do something that took courage, you WIN! Grief is rarely experienced without a sense of fear, but naming our own fears out loud and by acknowledging the fears of others helps us to mourn even when it is scary and overwhelming. Recognizing and naming our fears is reclaiming our own power and ownership over our healing.

How did you give a voice to your courage this month? Let us know!


Books and Resources


Inspiration

“One way to learn courage is to experiment with being courageous… we can taste courage, notice courage, pretend courage… having the courage to grieve leads to having the courage to live, to love, to risk, and to enjoy all the fruits of life without fear or inhibition.” Judy Tatelbaum

“Paradoxically, it is the very act of mustering the courage to move toward the pain that ultimately leads to healing.” Alan Wolfelt

“It takes courage to grieve, to honor the pain we carry. We can grieve in tears or in meditative silence, in prayer or in song. In touching the pain of recent and long-held griefs, we come face to face with our genuine human vulnerability, with helplessness and hopelessness. These are the storm clouds of the heart.” Jack Kornfield

“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.” Brene Brown

Each November, in our newsletter, I take time to acknowledge the loss of my son Brian. He is the reason for all I do with the Brian Dagle Foundation and Brian’s Healing Hearts. November 12, 2011, is when he left this earth. Fourteen years later, this day is difficult for all of us who were touched by the love Brian had for his family, friends, and community.

This November 12th will mark fourteen years since he left us. Time is a funny thing when you are grieving. The days and weeks leading up to that day catapult you back in time feeling as though it was yesterday yet at the same time, there is pervasive feeling of foreverness since we last hugged.

The years have allowed for the pieces of my broken heart to be gently stitched together. But days leading up to that day sometimes feel as though the stitches begin to unravel, allowing my deep grief to rise to the surface and the reality of his loss is overwhelming. I know that all I can do is breath through the hard days and remind myself that this too will pass. That in time, the gratitude for my family, friends, and life shines a light into my dark. That in time, I’ll remember Brian’s beautiful smile and his indigo blue eyes smiling are down at me.

And I’ll smile too, thankful to be his mom.

With gratitude,
Ann Dagle
President
Brian Dagle Foundation

September was busy at the Brian Dagle Foundation. Just the last few days, we hosted Dr. Alan Wolfelt, a leading grief expert, for a public workshop on grief and a day-long workshop for over 150 therapists, social workers, clergy, nurses, and other caregivers and helpers on caring for people who are grieving. Events like this are only possible due to the financial support of people like you.

In the nine months of 2025 so far, your donations have allowed us to host:

We’ve had a an average of 16 inquiries each month with 98 new support group attendees this year, an increase from every year before. Doing this work is an honor and we couldn’t do it without you.

As we approach the end of the year, please consider supporting us with a donation on Giving Tuesday or as part of your planned end-of-year giving. That money is what provides our support group members with a comfortable, non-clinical setting to find hope and begin healing. It keeps our kitchen stocked with tea, coffee, and snacks to meet the physical needs of mourners. And it makes bringing opportunities like our workshops and training with Dr. Alan Wolfelt possible.

We are humbled and honored by every single one of you who comes through our doors as a support group member, a volunteer, or a workshop attendee. Your partnership in our mission is essential.

Ann Dagle
President
Brian Dagle Foundation

Charter Oak members can have their donations matched through November 20.
Fill out your matching gifts form to double your gift!

Since losing Brian to suicide in 2011, I’ve been advocating, promoting, and talking about suicide prevention anywhere and everywhere. Espeically during September which is National Suicide Awareness Month. I’ve educated myself and now I teach others on the warning signs and risk factors of mental health and suicide. At every training session I always say, “If I knew then what I know now, maybe my life would be different.” 

I didn’t know the signs of someone struggling with their mental health or how to even talk about it? Brian didn’t have the language to share about his pain and I didn’t have the knowledge or understanding about how much he was struggling. 

Here are a few things you can do this September to raise awareness for suicide:

  1. Pause and listen to someone when they tell you about their day.
  2. Learn about suicide prevention from AFSP.org or SERACCT.org.
  3. Ask for help when you need it.
  4. Call or text 988 if you or someone you know is having a mental health crisis.
  5. Participate in an Out of the Darkness Walk. Info and registration for our local walk at AFSP.org/Niantic.

988 is a tremendous resource. It is available any time of day or night, whether there is an immediate crisis or if you need to speak with someone who is trained to help you decide what to do next.

I want to personally invite you to three important events happening this month:

Navigating Suicide Grief Virtual Talk (Monday 9/15): I will share my story of loss, healing, and hope and offer light into the darkness for so many who are struggling with the tragedy of losing a loved one to suicide. THIS IS A VIRTUAL EVENT.

Understanding Your Grief (Monday 9/29):Led by grief expert Dr. Alan Wolfelt, this compassionate program will acknowledge that loss is an unavoidable part of human life, but it doesn’t have to prevent you from living well. The content of this evening program is based on Dr. Wolfelt’s book, First Aid for Broken Hearts.

The Art of “Companioning” the Bereaved (Tuesday 9/30): This workshop offers professional-level training accessible to anyone who companions the bereaved. Anchored in Dr. Alan Wolfelt’s “companioning” model of grief care, you’ll recognize how grief and mourning are normal and necessary experiences that are fundamentally a journey of the heart and soul. Registration ends 9/12. Sign up now at brianshealinghearts.org/Wolfelt

I hope you’ll join me this month in building awareness to prevent future suicides and honor the survivors left behind.

With love and hope,
Ann Dagle
President
Brian Dagle Foundation

Question: I see people promoting themselves as “grief experts.” When I attended your training, I think you mentioned that the true “expert” is the mourner. Can you expand on this?

Your memory is correct – I have always maintained that the true expert in grief is the mourner.
I do believe there is a real difference between studying a mysterious body of knowledge surrounding grief and committing yourself to helping people versus projecting oneself as a “grief expert.” The Companioning Model of Grief Care is anchored in “teach me” and “compassionate curiosity” about what the mourner is experiencing.

Compassionate curiosity for the companion is about being willing to enter into and learn about the mystery of grief while recognizing you do not and cannot fully understand someone else’s experience. Curiosity is bathed in an attitude of the “beginner’s mind and heart.”

This attitude is not ignorance but the capacity to see without assumptions, to take a fresh look each and every time you are privileged to walk with and learn from a mourner. It involves a clearing away of thoughts, beliefs, and ideas that might cloud your ability to see things as they are in pristine form.

As we all realize, children are naturally curious. As we grow up we are at risk for losing this state of heightened awareness and natural desire to learn from those around us. We may falsely assume we already know. In other words, our intellect takes over. Yet, being a companion to people in grief can reactivate our sense of miracle to bring a fresh, simple, unsophisticated view of things.

Paradoxically, you can only learn from the mourner by acknowledging you don’t know. It is out of your helplessness that you ultimately become helpful. You have to be willing to disconnect from believing you have superior expertise of another human being’s emotional-spiritual journey of grief.

Through no fault of your own, your training as a caregiver may make it difficult to admit you don’t know and don’t have answers. You may instinctively be frightened to be present to people that are in liminal space—betwixt and between!

Actually, you may have been taught that part of being a professional is to project confidence and to state opinions as if they were gospel. Sadly, you don’t get respected in this culture by admitting you are confused or by asking tentative questions in search of enhancing your empathy versus providing techniques for brief therapy that collaborates with attempts to “manage grief.” The unconscious contamination of your training is more likely to encourage you to assess, diagnose, and treat than it is to observe, witness, listen, learn, and watch out for the mourner.

For some caregivers it is difficult, if not impossible, to relinquish their “diagnostic categories,” “interventions,” and “treatments.” These terms often lie at the heart of the professional identity of the care-giver and the invitation to be part of the mental-health medical model of expertise. Yet, the companion humbly acknowledges that “compassionate curiosity” is what you really need to care for the mourner.

Compassionate curiosity is about actively encouraging the mourner to teach you about her grief while you remain patient, humble and caring. You have the honor as a companion to listen and to learn, to be curious rather than to be certain. The greatest privilege of the companioning model, in fact, is that it moves you closer to the very people you wish to support. When you listen without a need to judge or interpret, you create a safe place and become a safe person for the mourner.

At bottom, it is not differences that divide us. Instead, it is our judgments about each other that do. Curiosity and use of the “teach me” model bring us back together. To use this model invites us to rest in the sometimes uncomfortable place of uncertainty of not knowing, having the answer, or being the expert.

One astute observer, Bradford Keeney, wrote the following about the hazards of being an expert or master counselor: “You will find that it no longer matters what you say. Everything uttered will be contextualized as the voice of a master… Avoid the political posturings of ‘mastery’ and return to embracing and cultivating a beginner’s mind. Maintain and respect ignorance. Speak to hear the surprise from your own voice.”

As you contemplate the value of curiosity versus expertise, listen to your own inner voice. What has your own personal grief taught you about what helps people heal? Have you witnessed change as the journey unfolds, but not according to plan or as a consequence of intentional intervention? Do you appreciate the mystery of grief and challenge the wish to have it resolved (which it can never be)? Do you believe that caring for the mourner requires a different language than that of modern academic psychology? Do you believe there is no exact end point to grief and that it should not be tied to a specific linear timeframe? Depending on your answers, you may have to admit you are a responsible rebel who believes in compassionate curiosity and challenges ego-based expertise.

What is a “Responsible Rebel”? One who questions assumptive models surrounding grief and loss and challenges those very models. Rebels are not afraid to question established structures and forms. At the same time, rebels respect the rights of others to use different models of understanding, and provide leadership in ways that empower people rather than diminish them.


Dr. Alan Wolfelt has been recognized as one of North America’s leading death educators and grief counselors. His books have sold more than a million copies worldwide and have been translated into many languages. Founder of the Center for Loss and Life Transition in Fort Collins, Colorado Dr. Wolfelt speaks on grief-related topics, offers trainings for caregivers, and has written many bestselling books and other resources on grief for both caregivers and grieving people. For more information visit www.centerforloss.com

As we approach the second half of the year, it feels like a good time to reflect on the impact the Brian Dagle Foundation has had in the first half of 2025. It continues to amaze me how many people walk through the door at Healing Hearts or call, looking for opportunities to learn more about grief or suicide awareness. We are honored that so many of you would trust us with the most tender parts of your grief and loss and how every single one of you, in your own way, has contributed to making this place a safe and comfortable place for people to come.

Since January, we have had:

  • 583 people attend regular support groups (an average of 97 per month)
  • 112 people participate in closed or special support groups (an average of 18 per month)
  • 92 people joined us for special events (an average of 15 per month)
  • 150 people came to an educational event (an average of 25 mer month)
  • 104 inquiries of people looking for grief support (an average of 17 per month)
  • 12+ volunteers helped support community events in schools, at suicide prevention walks, and in our Healing Garden

It is hard to believe that we get to be part of the journeys of so many of you and we are forever grateful for the ways you help make this work possible. We couldn’t do it without the time, donations, and participation you so generously offer.

If you haven’t had the chance to join us for a support group or special event, I encourage you to check out our event calendar. Coming in September, we have two special events with world-renowned grief educator Dr. Alan Wolfelt, our golf tournament later in the fall, and the Niantic Jingle 5k, our biggest fundraiser of the year. I hope to see you at one of these events or that you come to visit our facility, Brian’s Healing Hearts, and learn more about the lives that are being impacted.

Grateful,
Ann Dagle
President
Brian Dagle Foundation

Last month’s newsletter on joy and grief sparked several conversations from our community: How do we find light in the midst of the darkness? Can we honestly hold joy and grief together? 

Some of you strongly declared that at this point in your grief – less than 2 years for some – it was a hard, “no.” There was no joy, no happiness. In fact, as one of our members described this moment in their life and grief as though they were watching an old television: life was only to be viewed in black and white. There were others who were grateful for the inspirational words of understanding and hope. At this point, for better or worse, in their grief, they understood that both joy and grief were here to stay with them. 

I remember those days well. I embraced the darkness: it felt safer to stay in the dark because venturing into light opened the possibility of more pain.

In time, I started to dip my toe in the scary pond of life and began to search for moments of peace, glimmers, or little tiny pieces that reminded me that life was worth splashing in the water. Sometimes I ran back into the darkness because the water was ice cold. Other times, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, it was tolerable.

Until it wasn’t.

My tolerance for life was altered. Truth be told, there are times when it still is. 

I’ve learned to see and savor the moments of peace and the glimmers of joy. To use them to carry me though when the water is too cold. I’ve also learned to give myself grace. If the glimmers don’t glimmer for me, I trust that the moments of peace will find their way to my heart when I am ready to experience them.

Sending love as you navigate whichever part of grief you find yourself in,

Ann Dagle