I Didn’t Believe This Was Possible. My Professional Journey from Seasoned Skeptic to Passionate Believer in Grief-Informed Texting.

For over twenty years, I have been working with bereaved people of all ages, from providing one-on-one support in palliative and hospice care to working with bereaved children, teens, and their families through individual, group, and family sessions. I've run support groups for violent loss (suicide and homicide) and specialty groups for child loss, pregnancy loss, spousal loss, and parent loss. I've even managed summer grief camps, school-based programming, large community memorial events, and provided community care after violent and mass casualty events (natural disasters and mass shootings).

Through all of this work, over all of these years, I have learned that there will never be anything as powerful as in-person grief support.

And this is my humble expert opinion.

Melissa Lunardini, Camp Director, in red, with two camp volunteers, Tati Martinez and Rutha Johnson, at Camp Spero in 2019.

As I supported grieving people across all types of losses, it was clear to me that
technology could never provide the help that I was able to! It would have been
offensive to me for anyone to try to claim otherwise.

And then one day, someone did.

Enter Emma Payne in 2018, who reached out to me on LinkedIn. She was an
entrepreneur with her own traumatic grief experience, who wanted to
tell me about a text-based service she’d developed to support people who are
grieving.

As you can imagine, I was really skeptical. You could say that my protective
"mama bear" came out, as I openly scoffed at the idea that people could feel
supported by simple text messages. I knew this because I had decades of
firsthand experience, sitting one-on-one with people in their darkest moments.

I listened and politely & professionally declined—well, actually, I said, “I’ll think
about it.” But in my mind, that conversation was over and I went about my day.

At that time, I was in charge of a large comprehensive bereavement program in
San Diego, CA. My days day were filled with bereavement phone calls, new family orientations, camper interviews, addressing school crises, running groups, supporting staff and volunteers, program operations, along with seemingly all the
other duties that were required to keep our operations available for those in need. (If you know, you know)

Perhaps it was fate.
Or perfect timing.

After that conversation with Emma, many of my calls and in-person orientations that day were filled with people who had various barriers that made it impossible for them to access the care our services provided.

In one of my calls, there was a language barrier—if you've ever had to use the "language line" provided through hospice or other healthcare organizations, you know how "less than ideal" those can be for providing meaningful connection. There is always hope that a caring tone and intentions come through when put
into someone else's hands (words), and you also hope that the support will resonate with them.

Next up was a family visit with a Spanish-speaking family of four who had children across a wide developmental range. The father of this family had died by suicide, and they wanted to attend support groups. In addition to English as a second language, Mom had a barely functioning car and could only afford to drive once per week, as they lived a significant distance from the grief center.

She was faced with a difficult choice. She either needed to select which two children could attend groups (their ages ranged from 4-17) or, as a family, not get any group support.

This feeling as a provider is the most awful feeling in the world—to see people in desperate need of help and at the same time realize that your ability to support them is extremely limited. I think all bereavement professionals have had to experience something like this, and it hurts on an emotional level to know that you can't do more to help.

My next appointment was with a couple whose newborn baby died from SIDS. The mother very much wanted support, but the father was checked out and refused to participate in any groups or "therapy," as he called it. We all know that mom and dad could each have benefited from some kind of support.

These back-to-back-to-back barriers frustrated me and also made me think of my call with Emma. My personal and professional desire to be able to provide some level of help to these people made me wonder about her text messaging platform.

But in my mind, nothing could compete with in-person support. Especially not a text.

I remember my inner dialogue going something like this as I started to get REALLY honest with myself, realizing that maybe I also had to check my own ego:

Honest Me to Fragile Ego Me: “You just had three examples of people who can't access your services. Although you'd like to think you're the be-all and end-all for grieving people in San Diego, you're apparently not.”

"Although you'd like to think that in-person care is what people need the most, sometimes it's not.”

“Although you like to think that technology can't support grieving people, you actually don't know.

“Maybe, just maybe, you’re making assumptions based on your own biases and fear that maybe your services will no longer be needed if people opt in to text messaging, or that maybe technology will hurt them in some way - when you actually don't know if either of these might happen.”

And it made me ask myself: “Who am I serving with this type of restricted thinking, or more importantly, who am I NOT serving, because of this thinking?”

Which led to another conversation with Emma, that went something like this:

Honest Me to Emma: “I want to share my concerns. I am worried about the content. I am worried about what would happen if people text in. I want to understand who will be responding. I am worried about a crisis scenario. I am worried that a text may cause distress.”

“Even though I am worried about texting, I am also worried about the people I met today who can't use our services. I can't help but think about what will happen to them if they don't get any support. I can imagine that they will be worse off by receiving no support than if they at least got some support via texts.”

“So I’d be willing to try a pilot program with you. And need to see what families will see, so I want to try it myself.”

From the very beginning, I witnessed firsthand the profound and positive impact that a simple text message can have on a grieving person's journey.

Not only did my first test users love receiving support to their phones, but it didn't take away from the other ways I could provide help. In fact, it enriched my services and impact in many ways. Over time, we saw more people accessing our support, and we expanded our reach because we could still serve people who were limited by things like language, transportation, finances, childcare, etc.

Help Texts (then called Grief Coach) quickly became my favorite service offering (Selfishly, also because I was helping more people without adding to my workload). Help Texts literally freed me up to do the more personal work.

Fast forward from Skeptic to Believer.

My experience with this type of support was so powerful that I wanted to go deeper, in order to help even more people through their grief. Today, I’m the Chief Clinical Officer at Help Texts. Our research team sits on an unimaginable amount of data (quantitative and qualitative), where people from around the world are sharing, and proving, how impactful grief-informed texting is.

The daily barrage of messages of thanks that we receive are mind-blowing and heart-warming. The texts are providing meaningful, timely, and most importantly, personal resonance. When we send out surveys, they return the most beautiful and heartfelt responses about how these simple text messages have quite literally kept their broken souls tethered to hope.

As evidence of why I believe, here are some actual examples of what real people have said about the grief-informed texting service:

"The texts are discreet and sent directly to me and have really saved me some days feeling alone and guilt with my grief as some days have been so bad then a text pops up which makes you feel instantly better and not alone and .. normal! Also the hints and tips and videos have been extremely helpful too. Of all the things that GP friends and family have recommended this text service has been by far the best and most supportive to me and my family. I honestly believe I'd be in a darker place if it wasn't for these. Saved my life ❤️"

....

"I feel more relaxed after receiving a text — it reminds me to focus on myself and do self-care (like cuddle my cat, drink tea, play a game, or book an appointment)."

....

"Everyday I grieve and these amazing messages help me so much on the darkest of my days. It's helping me take time for my thoughts and think more clearly since Jorge passed away. I go back to the messages too. Even when I'm doing everyday things, receiving a message like now comforts me. I can't thank you enough 🥰 "

....

"Everything has been helpful to me, it helps to read the texts and the one about writing the letter to my son really helped me to deal with this. I told him things in the letter I couldn't bring myself to say after he passed thank you all for your support"

....

"I appreciate the consistent flow of communication with the gentle messages to help understand what you're going through and how you are feeling. You don't feel as alone and also want to make sure your loved ones aren't forgotten. Even though it was a one way communication I felt very held and that someone was thinking of me and that they cared. I don't want the messages to stop :( grief can make you feel so alone."

....

"It seems like the texts validate exactly what I'm feeling and it's like whoever sends the text knows. I appreciate this service as I am not seeing anyone professionally for my grief"

....

"Some days when you are really down and just don't know what to do with yourself a random text will pop up reminding you that it's ok and that you aren't alone and that you will get through it. It's nice to just read something positive without feeling the pressure to respond as it's not a family member or friend etc."

....

"Your message is giving me a courage to look forward thanks"

....

I started as a skeptic, and I would understand why you'd be one too, but in the end, it’s the grievers themselves who have won me over.

They have told me, time and time again, that grief-informed texting works, that it is needed, and that it has resonated for them in ways that other support couldn’t. Their reflections are honest and heartfelt, and their gratitude has shown me that - even though at first I couldn't believe it - there is a vital role that technology can play in doing at least some of what we do.

I have learned to still firmly believe that human support will always be needed, but also to acknowledge that technology, used well, can provide a benefit as another powerful modality.

Grief-informed texting is simply another support modality that people can opt into. As you know, when we are grieving, we need access to ALL of the support options – not just the ones that we, as providers, believe people need.

Signed,

A skeptic turned believer

Melissa Lunardini, Ph.D., MA, MBA, FT
Chief Clinical Officer at Help Texts

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