Surrender, Autism Awareness, & New Groups
- Grounded Grief
- 4 hours ago
- 8 min read
THE GROUNDED GRIEF NEWSLETTER | APRIL 2026
April brings a different energy. Where March was the quiet, barren in-between, spring is now here—and it doesn’t ask permission. Living things wake up whether we’re ready or not: the trees, the flowers, and often, our grief. This month, we are exploring the intersection of Awakenings, Surrender, and finding our own way.
Today Lindsay Wooster-Halberg, honors Autism Awareness Month with a beautiful reminder that there is no single way to process loss. Then, Katherine Hatch reflects on the peace found in giving up the struggle and allowing grief to ebb and flow naturally. We are also giving you a glimpse of some new projects blooming behind the scenes, along with our upcoming groups and workshops designed to hold space for whatever is awakening for you this season.
Wherever you are in your awakening today, we are so glad you are here.
April is Autism Awareness Month
Autism and Grief: Finding Your Own Way
By Lindsay Wooster-Halberg | MSW, LCSW
3-minute read
April is Autism Awareness Month, which gifts us a window to reflect on the unique experiences that individuals with autism and/or other neurodivergent diagnoses have with grief. In recent years, there’ve been amazing strides to better understand the impact that autism and grief have on one another… and with that, we also have new resources designed to better meet the needs of grievers who are autistic.
Some of our favorite resources worth noting:
I Have a Question by Arlen Grad Gaines and Meredith Englander:Geared towards children and younger teens—excellent and accessible social stories explaining death, mourning rituals, and grief reactions.
Finding Your Own Way to Grieve by Karla Helbert: An activity book geared towards teens to explore grief at their own pace.
The Autism and Grief Project Website: Features written info, video testimonials, and an excellent social story on preparing for a funeral service.
Grief Out Loud Podcast, Episode 319: A touching conversation supporting parents and caregivers who are supporting children who are autistic and grieving. (And if you’re new to the Grief Out Loud podcast, know that you really can’t go wrong with any of the episodes!)
As a therapist, I’ll be the first to admit there is so much about ‘typical’ grief care that presumes someone’s brain operates in a similar way mine does—i.e., you’ll find me loving a good grief metaphor, or talking about how grief typically needs to find community and reveres the mystery of a forever continued bond. So many individuals with autism, however, will tell you that grief makes better sense broken down literally, that community can be overwhelming, and unless they’re defining them on their own, continued bonds might just be too abstract of a concept to provide any meaningful guidance or comfort.
Working with teens who are autistic and grieving has pushed me to listen more carefully. I’ve learned that children with autism absolutely ‘get it,’ even if an outward emotional expression isn’t what a caregiver anticipates. I’ve learned to help caregivers anticipate rumination and repetitive questioning. I’ve learned that funerals might be overwhelming, but kids might have their own ideas of rituals that could be meaningful.
Above all, I’ve learned that teens or adults with autism who are navigating grief deserve as much as any of us to grieve in exactly their own way and be supported by those willing to learn what that way looks like.
April's Happy Hour Theme: Awakenings |
— T.S. Eliot (from his 1922 poem The Waste Land) Portland friends, join us for our monthly grief circle—Happy Hour for Sad People: Awakenings, hosted by @groundedgrief X @rhinestone.pdx.
Something is stirring in you. Maybe it’s inconvenient. Maybe it showed up uninvited. Maybe you’re not sure you’re ready for it. An awakening isn’t always beautiful. Sometimes it’s terrifying. Sometimes what wakes up is a truth you’ve been avoiding. But something in you is pushing toward the light anyway. And that’s not nothing. That’s everything.
Whether you’re waking up to a truth, thawing out after a long numbness, or feeling something stir that you don’t quite have a name for yet—come as you are. Half asleep, newly awake, or somewhere in between.n, you are invited. |
On Surrender
By Katherine Hatch | Founder & Practice Lead
4-minute read
Surrender
Some mornings I wake and the peace
that I tried to find yesterday finds me—
arrives in the open palms of the river scent,
in the erratic path of the warbler,
in the low golden angle of sun as it slants
through the gray knuckled branches of cottonwood trees.
Even the broken watering can seems to bring me
news of what’s been here all along—
the peace that holds up the turmoil, the mess.
And the dried grasses in the field
and the tiny new leaves on the currants
gather me into them. They’re like old friends who say,
It’s okay, make all the mistakes you want
around us. Some mornings, through no effort
of our own, we are gathered into the peace
of the patient lichen and the still pond.
It’s the difference between breathing
and being breathed, between asking for grace
and finding that grace has been asking for us.
— Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer (All the Honey)
I carry All the Honey, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s book, around most days. Just knowing it’s in my bag offers a softness and a comfort on trickier days. Right now, it sits next to me, drying out, after accompanying me on a rainy walk.
After I gave up the struggle to figure out what to write, it came, packaged within my surrender...a repetitive, potent and comforting lesson for me this month. I surrendered to the invitation to be still on the couch during a rainy spring day, and just type. This month, I surrendered to the waves of overwhelm and grief and what followed was some balanced quiet and settling. I am learning to surrender to the mere fact of these ebbs and flows, no matter my level of “managing” all the things.
Surrender has also been an act of deeper listening this month—a call in my little family for more slowness, quiet, and just less—less of so much. This version of surrender has welcomed in some joy—joy in connection with new friends through letter writing, joy in checking if the sweet peas are peeking out of the dirt yet, joy in a Blazers' down-to-the-wire win to get into the playoffs, and joy in noticing the blue jay mama building her nest in the shrub out front.
Surrender is not a word for me that contains defeat. In fact, it embodies release and freedom. In this context, it is an invitation to be more in alignment, to allow for the depths of the sadness and grief, and to acknowledge the cycle of grief, bringing me back to the rhythm that offers up a little more gentleness, a little more balance.
This surrender, as Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer puts it, is more about the finding out that it is already available to us—not that we need to seek it out.
I think of how similar grief is—grief is not asking us to work so hard or DO a lot about it. It already exists and just needs us to notice it, allow it, surrender to it, and not even all the time. The turning towards the grief is the frightening part—to look and be with that pain can feel daunting. And yet perhaps when we do, it is not quite what we expected to find. And perhaps the turning towards the grief brings the unexpected—a tender smile, a softened jaw, a restful sleep, an inner settling, or even a new depth of connection.
What does surrender mean to you?
What would you like to surrender today?
What could surrender help you soften towards today?
What might happen to your grief if you were able to surrender to it?
If you're looking for a space to be among others who understand, join us for our next Grief Walk in Maryland or Portland or our Happy Hour for Sad People: a monthly unconventional grief circle hosted at a local PDX bar. You can find the details about these events and all others here and we've included handy links below.
With warmth and solidarity,
Katherine & The Grounded Grief Team
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Don't Miss Our Upcoming Events!
TONIGHT: Happy Hour for Sad People: An Unconventional Grief Circle
April 27, May 25, June 22 | 7:00 PM Pacific Time
Portland, Oregon
Grounded Grief x Rhinestone PDX have turned "Happy Hour for Sad People" into a monthly residency. Join Juniper Wong, MSW, LICSW every fourth Monday of the month for the grief circle you didn't know you needed...yup, at a bar.
TOMORROW: EMBER | A Support Group for Every Kind of Loss
Tuesday, April 28th | 7:00-9:00 PM Eastern
Virtual via Zoom
Join Tisha Washington, MSW, LMSW for EMBER: a safe online space to share experiences and find support after loss, because you're not alone in this journey. We will tend what arises through meditation, journaling, and shared reflection.
Grief is not a problem to be solved, but a process to be tended.
Grounded Grief Walks PDX
Tuesday, May 5th | Biweekly on Tuesdays from 12:30-1:30 pm Pacific Time
Portland, Oregon
Join the Grounded Grief Team for gentle outdoor grief group woods walks with space for quiet, conversation, and connection. Grief Counselors Katherine Hatch, MSW, LCSW, and Alyssa Ackerman, B.A., LMT, will be leading us on these walks.
Moving Grief Together: An Outdoor Walking Grief Support Group
Fridays from 10:00-11:00 am Eastern Time
Chevy Chase, Maryland
Join Tisha Washington, MSW, LMSW every Friday from 10:00-11:00 am Eastern for gentle outdoor grief group walks with space for quiet, conversation, and connection.
May 7th: For the Mothers, the Mothered, and the Missing | A Grief Ritual
Thursday, May 7th | 6:00-8:00 PM Pacific
Portland, Oregon
Join Alyssa Ackerman, B.A., LMT, in tending the grief that Mother’s Day amplifies. Together, we will make space for the many ways this grief lives—whether you are grieving a mother, navigating estrangement, grieving a child, or holding the invisible weight of mothering. Through ritual, breath, and shared presence, we will let grief move. Come as you are. All the complexity, confusion, and chaos of it. You are welcome here.
May 14th: Held Holders | A Grief Ritual Space for Therapists & Helping Professionals
Thursday, May 14th | 12:30-1:30 PM Pacific
Virtual via Zoom
You know grief intimately. You’ve sat with it, named it, and held it carefully for others. But your own grief needs a safe place to land.
Join Alyssa Ackerman, B.A., LMT, for a confidential peer space created specifically for therapists, social workers, nurses, doulas, and all helping professionals. This is a room where you are not the holder, but the held. Here, you can set down the clinical frame entirely and tend to your personal grief, the accumulated weight of the work, and simply be witnessed as a human being.
May 19th: The Parent Circle
Tuesday, May 19th | 5:30–6:30 PM Pacific
A Bi-Monthly Drop-In Support Space | Virtual via Zoom
Join Lindsay Wooster-Halberg, MSW, LCSW, for a welcoming, remote Q&A space designed for parents and caregivers supporting a grieving child. This group centers on your real, current questions—covering everything from big emotions and developmental milestones to challenging behaviors, school routines, and sibling dynamics.
Come exactly as you are, whether you have a specific question or simply want to listen and take in the shared wisdom of the group.
REMOTE WORKSHOP SERIES
Join us for our bi-monthly offering of one-hour remote workshops!
Grief isn't meant to be navigated in isolation. We're building a space that honors the messy, non-linear, and beautifully human experience of loss and life. Thank you for being part of it.
If this newsletter resonated with you, please share it with a friend—we appreciate you helping make our community just a wee bit bigger.
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