Lessons from a Grief Retreat
Wednesday, October 22, 2025
written by Rev. Leah Quarles
This past Saturday, I attended Hospice of the Valley’s Bereavement Retreat - a day-long retreat at the Franciscan Renewal Center. My neighbor lost her dad seven months ago, and asked if I’d go with her. I went for a few reasons. I went to support my friend, who I knew was struggling with her loss. I went out of professional curiosity - curious to see how they structured retreats and what content they included. I, like most pastors, am always seeking to learn how to be a better pastor when it comes to care. And finally, *removes pastor hat* I went for myself.
In the three years I’ve been in Arizona, I’ve lost my Dad and three pregnancies. Only two of these four losses I’ve been able to hold in my hands to say goodbye. I’m pretty good at shoving stuff under the rug. Plugging away. Coping. Whatever you want to call it. Yet there’s something about grief that is unique. It can feel at times, like it has a life of its own. Like a sourdough starter that grows and bursts out of the jar. Or slime you try to push back into the original container only to watch one section fart out after another with every push (oh please, you know the sound it makes).
Grief will also show up in one way or another. For me, I’ve learned, it’s brain fog. I know what I’m capable of accomplishing. I pride myself on the ability to juggle quite a few items all at once. But grief has impacted that. I couldn’t think clearly for the better part of the last 2.5 years. My creativity was out the door, and my ability to think strategically went with it. It was as if my brain was only focused on the tasks necessary for sustaining life alone.
Saturday’s retreat validated what I had experienced. Hospice of the Valley’s counselors offered us resources that demonstrated what grief can look like in the different stages and provided tools for self-care and reflection. (If you are interested, I’m happy to share the handouts with you.) I heard from others as well who are navigating their own loss. At the start of the retreat, one counselor reminded us that each person there was united in one thing – we all belong to the club no one wants to be a part of –the shared experience of grief. This truth is actually what has been incredibly healing for me.
I’m convinced our entire country needs to have a time-out from the media, whether that be the news or social media. We need to be put in a big grief retreat with other people for a whole day. Because what happened was that my system reset. I slowed down. I stopped rushing from one place to another; instead, I was thoughtfully present the entire day. Present with myself, with what was happening in the moment - whether that be walking a labyrinth, allowing myself to cry, or eating lunch - and I was present with others.
My heart broke for their heartbreaks. I shared tissues and tears. Memories and frustrations. We were humans together. And for a whole day, it didn’t matter where you live or how you look, what you did for work, or which political party you’re a part of. It was just a bunch of humans creating space for each other and showing love and support. A bunch of broken-hearted people, leaning into each other and being vulnerable. That was perhaps the most valuable lesson I was given on this grief retreat. Living life in community is of the utmost importance.
God exists in community as the Triune God. God created us for community - even those of us introverts need community. God knows something we need to be reminded of often – we need each other. We need to lean into each other and be reminded through shared experience that we are human beings, created beautifully by God, worthy of respect and love, and a safe place to be. And perhaps that’s one positive thing that grief has taught me. No one escapes death - so maybe it’s the one common thing we can lean into to be reminded of the sacredness of another.