Meeting of the Parliament 03 December 2025
I congratulate my colleague on securing this debate on what can be a taboo issue: grief and bereavement, which are two sides of the same coin.
Grief can be immediate; it can be there even when your loved one is still alive, in the last, sometimes painful, days, or even weeks, of life—bereavement can begin even then. Of course, at funerals, memorials, anniversaries, Christmas and new year, grief can be anticipated, but it can pop up even years later; a certain melody, or the scent of a flower and, out of the blue, you are heavy with sadness. These days, those we have lost are immortalised in our social media, and that is also tough.
It is wrong for someone to say, “It’s been nearly a year—you’d think they’d have moved on.” Some do; others do not. Some drink their way out of grief—that does not usually work. Some throw themselves into work or projects. Sometimes that works, but sometimes it is grief deferred. The loss of a child through an accident can bring parents together, but it can also tear a relationship apart. With the suicide of a loved one, there is guilt. There is no script, and no road map that will suit everyone. That is where individual bereavement counselling services come in, and I will refer to two such services.
It was humbling to view the “Lothians speak their name” quilt memorial in Parliament. The quilt was hand-crafted, to remember loved ones who took their own lives, by a group of 49 friends and family members. I heard about how those who helped to create that beautiful memorial found strength in the new community that they had formed. Sitting together chatting, just incidentally, led to starting conversations about the loved one they had lost to suicide and about mental health, their own wellbeing and how to cope—sharing with others in the same boat as themselves. The quilt tours the Lothians, helping to start conversations about mental health and suicide, in the hope that it will help those who have lost a loved one and perhaps also save lives.
Recently, it was my privilege to meet two Borders widows who are members of the Scottish Borders widowed community, which is a peer-to-peer support group that offers long-term compassionate support to men and women across the Borders who have lost a partner. As the only group of its kind in the region, it provides a much-needed space for people to connect with others who truly understand what it means to be widowed. The group meets monthly in person in Galashiels, with on-going private online support available at any time, including on difficult days such as anniversaries or in those moments of grief that arise quite unexpectedly.
Members also organise social activities such as walks, cinema outings and coffee meet-ups—simple but powerful opportunities to find connection and presence amid profound loss. The group is entirely volunteer run, and all members of the team are themselves widowed. Over the past three years, the group has grown to nearly 480 members, offering a lifeline to many who are facing isolation and continual heartbreak. Its approach is centred on providing sustained support over the long term, not just in the immediate aftermath of bereavement.
One of the group’s aims is to encourage more open conversations about death, not just emotionally but in practical and mental terms, with an emphasis on preparedness and reducing the silence that often surrounds grief and loss. The group’s motto is “Life grows around your grief”. That is a kind and compassionate thought. Although it is a difficult path, with steps forward and many steps back, those organisations and others help to keep folk on a forward path.
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