About Grief-Informed
Event Planning
Some of the most meaningful celebrations happen while we're carrying grief, too.
At Fantastical Adventures, I believe there’s room for the full range of human emotion in the experiences we create. Weddings, events, and milestones don't always happen during perfectly uncomplicated chapters of our lives. Sometimes we're celebrating something beautiful while missing someone who should have been there. Sometimes we're marking a new beginning while carrying the weight of what came before.
Joy and grief can absolutely exist in the same room.
That understanding is a meaningful part of how I approach event planning. My approach is grief-informed, shaped both by my own personal experiences with loss and by the experiences I've had working on weddings and events where loved ones have passed away. That includes celebrations of life and memorial events, but also weddings and other celebrations where a parent, grandparent, sibling, friend, or other important person is no longer physically there to share the occasion.
Maybe your dad won't get to see you walk down the aisle.
Maybe your grandmother was the person who always dreamed of seeing you get married.
Maybe you're planning a milestone celebration without someone who should've been sitting at the table.
Maybe you're welcoming a rainbow baby, and the joy of this new chapter exists alongside the grief of the child who came before.
Or maybe you don't have a specific event or circumstance that fits neatly into one of those examples; you just know that this celebration is going to bring up some complicated feelings.
You don't have to choose between celebrating and grieving.
Grief doesn't follow a schedule, and it certainly doesn't disappear just because there's a party on the calendar. Sometimes the happiest moments can bring the biggest reminders of who isn't there. And sometimes laughter, excitement, and joy can feel complicated when you're missing someone you love.
I don't believe there's one “right” way to acknowledge that.
For some people, it might mean incorporating someone's favorite flowers, music, food, photographs, colors, traditions, or belongings into the event. It might mean creating a dedicated memorial moment, displaying meaningful photos, reserving a seat, including their handwriting, or finding a subtle Easter egg that only the people who knew them will recognize.
For someone else, it might mean doing none of those things.
There is no universal grief playbook and there shouldn't be one for your event, either.
My job isn't to tell you how to grieve, how you should remember someone, or what your celebration needs to look like. I'm not a therapist, but what I can do is listen, ask thoughtful questions, offer ideas when you want them, and help you create an event that makes space for whatever feels meaningful to you.
And sometimes, the most meaningful thing is simply acknowledging that someone mattered.
Grief can also make the practical side of planning feel heavier. Decisions that might normally feel exciting can become overwhelming. Family dynamics may be more complicated. Certain dates, traditions, songs, locations, or milestones can bring up unexpected emotions. You may have conversations you'd rather not have while simultaneously trying to figure out catering, seating charts, timelines, transportation, and a hundred other tiny details.
That's where I can help.
I can take some of the logistical weight off your shoulders while you focus on your people and on experiencing the moment itself. I'll wrangle the timelines, vendors, details, and inevitable “how are we supposed to make all of this happen?” questions, while keeping the significance of the event in mind.
This is especially meaningful to me when working on celebrations of life, which have become my second most-requested type of event. These aren't simply events where we gather in someone's memory. They're opportunities to tell a person's story: to remember the things they loved, the people they touched, the weird little details that made them them, and the legacy they're leaving behind.
And that storytelling piece is at the heart of Fantastical Adventures.
Whether I'm helping you celebrate someone's life, honor someone who can't physically be there, navigate a milestone after loss, or create space for both grief and joy in a new chapter, I want your event to make room for the whole story.
The tears. The laughter. The memories. The complicated feelings. The people who are there. The people who aren't. The love that somehow manages to hold all of it.
Because sometimes the most honest celebrations aren't purely happy. They're full.
And there's something beautiful about making space for all of it.
