An Update from The Founder: Personal Reflections on Grief, Montreal, and Our Mission

I've been on the move recently, and I'm excited to give you all an update. As many of you know, I've been spending more time in Montreal lately, and this experience has been shaping both my personal journey and our mission at Grieve Leave in ways I never expected. I wanted to share some thoughts with you about what this means for me, for us, and – I hope –  for the future of workplace bereavement policies.

There's something surreal about spending more time in Montreal. As I wander through the city's streets, I'm struck by a strange mix of familiarity and foreignness. This was my mom's city, the place where she grew up. This was my parents’ city when they met at McGill University. This was my grandparents’ city as they lived into their 80s and 90s. It’s only in the past few years that I’ve really spent prolonged periods of time here, as my brother and I cared for our nana at the end of her life. It’s a city I’ve visited plenty, but it’s not a city I would’ve ever called home, myself. 

North Carolina will always be my anchor. It's where I grew up, where I spent some of my proudest years of my career. It’s where both of my parents are buried. And Durham, NC, especially, feels like my connection to my dad. There's comfort in eating at the restaurants we used to go to together, cheering at Duke basketball games just like we always did, and knowing my childhood home is just a few minutes away from me. 

I want to say that Durham feels like home, but that’s not true. It’s that it feels very familiar to me. I have a wonderful community of people, and a strong network of support. But, since my dad died, honestly nowhere has felt completely like home for me. Over time, I'm learning that maybe I’ll never feel the same sense of “home” that I used to feel when my dad was alive, or when both of my parents were alive and well when I was a little kid. 

I’m learning that I have the chance, now, to create more places that feel like home– just in a different way. It’s about building a new sense of belonging, not seeking out the same sense of belonging I used to have. It's a work in progress, this idea of feeling entirely like I belong somewhere. And it's teaching me that grief isn't just about looking back - it's also about finding new ways to move forward.

Montreal is a place I am choosing to build more of a sense of belonging. My brother and sister-in-law live here, and I am beyond excited to live in the same city as them. As I spend more time exploring this part of the world that my mom once called home, I feel like I'm uncovering pieces of her I never fully understood.  I'm ready to spend more time in places that connect me with my mom, to balance out all the ways I've held onto my dad's memory in Durham.

And if you’ll let me indulge in some of my policy-nerd tendencies, there’s one more thing I want to talk about that’s special about spending time in Canada. Something that’s helping me build a sense of belonging here is that it’s a country that’s committed to providing leave from work to people when they need it. Like bereavement leave. (And parental leave! I remember having a conversation with a cousin a few years ago who said she was worried about going back to work– that her yearlong Canadian parental leave didn’t feel like enough, And I sat there, equally jealous and proud of the humanity that is offered to Canadians.)

There is bereavement leave offered federally, and leave offered provincially. It’s freaking awesome. I have a lot more to learn and nerd out on to understand the ins and outs of bereavement leave here (please email [email protected] if you want to teach me more about these policies – I’d love to learn!), but from what I understand so far: 

• In Canada, up to 10 days of bereavement leave, including 3 paid days, go to people in federally-regulated jobs (about 10% of the workforce, it seems.) 

• Here in the province of Quebec, you can have up to 5 days of leave for bereavement, with two of those days paid. (There are different ranges of time for different provinces.) 

I remember the struggle of balancing work and grief when my dad died, the guilt of needing time off, and the stress of trying to count up vacation days I could use to bury my dad. Now, I’ve crossed a border and suddenly found myself in a place where this basic right to bereavement leave exists. It makes me wonder: if it's possible here, why not everywhere?

This realization has continued my passion for advocating for bereavement leave. It's possible, it's already happening in North America, and it's time for the U.S. to catch up. No one should have to choose between grieving and their livelihood. This week, I was honored to team up with Glamour and Paid Leave for All to join in the call for access to paid leave across the U.S.. It’s about time! 

As I continue to split my time between Durham and Montreal, I'm filled with a mix of emotions: Gratitude for the connections I have in both places. Sadness for the losses that brought me here. Curiosity about the life my ancestors, especially my mother, lived in these streets. And determination to keep pushing for change in how we support people through grief.