Weddings are a time of joy, love, and new beginnings—but for many, they also stir up a quiet undercurrent of grief. Whether it’s the absence of a parent, the loss of a dear friend, or the ache of wishing someone could witness your “I do,” the emotions tied to grief often go unspoken in the whirlwind of celebration. Yet, acknowledging that loss can make the experience even more profound.

To shed light on this tender topic, we spoke with Brennan Wood, Executive Director of Dougy Center: The National Grief Center for Children & Families and author of A Kids Book About Grief. Having lost her mother before her first wedding and her father before her second, Brennan knows firsthand what navigating grief while planning your wedding feels like. Through her personal story and professional insight, she offers heartfelt guidance for those navigating both love and loss during one of life’s biggest milestones.

Q: Were there moments during wedding planning when the absence of your parents felt especially overwhelming? How did you navigate those emotions?

A: I often describe grief as feeling like you’ve been pushed into the ocean during an unrelenting storm. Over time, the storm may begin to ease, and you learn how to navigate the waves, but there are moments when it can all feel overwhelming again. Milestones filled with emotion and intensity, like planning a wedding, can stir those feelings up in powerful ways. While planning our own wedding, there were definitely times when my parents’ absence felt especially heavy.

 For me, moving through the emotions of wedding planning without them began with giving myself permission to feel the full range of emotions. So often, we try to focus only on the positive or push aside the more painful parts, but doing so can dull the entire experience. Real life holds joy and sorrow and everything in between—and allowing space for all of it can lead to a deeper, more meaningful experience.

A few things that helped me in those tender moments: take a break, take a breath, take a walk. Call someone who understands. Let yourself cry. And most importantly, try to offer yourself a little grace.

Q: Were there any specific rituals, tributes, or quiet moments you incorporated into your wedding day to honor your mom or dad?

A: On the morning of my wedding, Steve (my now-husband) and I visited the church where my parents are buried to lay flowers on their grave. Although I had made a very intentional decision not to get married there, I wanted that special place to be a part of the day. It mattered deeply to me to honor my parents—without making the entire day about their absence. Our wedding was, above all, a celebration of the incredible love story Steve and I share.

There were small, heartfelt tributes woven throughout the day. My bouquet was tied with a silk ribbon stitched with buttons from my mother’s wedding dress. At the reception, Steve and I toasted with the same champagne coupes my parents used on their wedding day in 1969. And in our ceremony program, we included a note dedicating the day in loving memory of my parents, and to Steve’s best friend, who had also died.

One of the most meaningful tributes came about by pure serendipity. In my family, instead of saying “I love you,” we often said, “I lava you”—a sweet, silly phrase from a joke my mom used to tell: “What did the big volcano say to the little volcano?” “I lava you!” It became a kind of family signature, something my siblings and I still say to each other. Years later, when I saw the Disney short film Lava in theaters, I sobbed. It felt like it was written for us.

Then, during wedding planning, Steve happened to see a performer playing Hawaiian music on the ukulele in a sandwich shop during his lunch break. On a whim, he asked for the musician’s contact info and then hired him to perform Lava as our processional. That song—full of warmth, memory, and meaning—was the perfect way to begin our ceremony. It set the tone for an event filled with love, remembrance, and joy.

Q: For those who are grieving the loss of a loved one while planning a wedding, what advice would you offer about balancing joy and sorrow?

A: Grief looks different for everyone, but for those navigating a loss while planning a wedding, I’d gently encourage you to allow space for the full range of emotions. Try to stay present to all of it—the joy, the sorrow, and everything in between.

A wedding is often seen as one of life’s most joyful milestones, but that doesn’t mean it’s only filled with happiness. It’s not a singular, perfect moment—it’s a reflection of real life, which is layered and complex.

I often say that with grief, you can hold two truths that may feel at odds, and yet both can exist at the same time. It’s possible to feel deep joy and profound sadness in the same breath—and sometimes, that contrast can be breathtakingly beautiful.

Q: How can couples communicate their grief needs to their partner, especially if their partner hasn’t experienced a similar loss?

A: I would start early with open, honest, clear, and transparent communication. Sharing in advance your sense of how your grief may impact your celebration. At Dougy Center: The National Grief Center for Children & Families, we often hear from folks that the anticipation of special events and holidays can sometimes be more difficult than the actual day itself in terms of their grief. By planning ahead and communicating, hopefully, you will find some of the rough edges of grief will feel smoother for you. 

I would say that communication is especially important if your partner hasn’t experienced a similar loss! One especially sweet and thoughtful thing Steve did was to call my older brother to ask for his blessing before he proposed. He knew that he would have reached out to my dad if he were alive, and it felt important to him to include my brother in this way. Learning that he did this was such a powerful validation of truly the kind of person he is, and why I am so lucky to spend my life with him.

Q: What are some ways friends, family, or even vendors can be sensitive and supportive to someone grieving during their wedding planning?

A: For some people, while getting married, it may feel deeply important to include elements in the day that honor the memory of their loved one. For others, that grief may feel very private—something they want to hold close, perhaps sharing it only with their partner or a few trusted family members.

Whatever the approach, open, honest communication is key. I encourage friends, family, and vendors to gently ask questions and invite conversation. Don’t shy away from it—your willingness to engage can be incredibly supportive.

Here are a few prompts that might help start those conversations:

• Are there specific ways you’d like to honor (person’s name) during your wedding celebrations? How can I help with this?
• Would it be helpful for me to provide some ideas of ways others have honored people during their weddings?
• Would you prefer to honor (person’s name) privately, or is there a way we can hold space for the impact they’ve had on your life more publicly?
• How can I support you in balancing staying present for this incredible day and all the joy it will bring, while also honoring the grief you may feel with (person’s name) not being here?

Q: People often feel guilty experiencing happiness during moments of deep grief. What would you say to someone struggling with that emotional conflict on their wedding day?

A: Guilt can be a significant part of grief for many people, in many ways. It is truly so common – and so human – to feel guilt when happiness shows up when you are grieving. I would gently remind anyone that your capacity for happiness will never diminish the depth of your love for your person or your feelings of loss. 

Grief, love, and happiness can – and do – all exist side by side. You can miss your person deeply, while also allowing yourself to feel all the wonderful things a wedding holds. And feeling those things will never mean you’ve forgotten. It simply means you are human and alive in this moment. Sometimes the most beautiful moments can be when we allow love and loss to exist together, honoring both.