Grieve appropriately
Move on at the correct pace (whatever that means)
Become a functional adult without the people who were supposed to teach you how.
So you're figuring it out as you go.
It looks something like this:
You Google is it normal to talk to dead people at 2am.
You buy things you don't need because clicking purchase feels like doing something.
You avoid people because explaining why you're sad requires more energy than you have.
You're doing your best in a brutal situation with an absence of guidance.
Most grief resources assume you need fixing. They offer timelines, stages, closure.
They promise that time heals, that everything happens for a reason, that you'll find peace if you just process correctly.
None of that matches what you're actually experiencing.

(I know, strange name - my dead parents gave it to me)
I know what you are going through. My mom, the biggest hero I've ever had, has been gone for 17 years, and I'm still not 'over it'.
I still miss her every day. But I'll admit I'm also still a little mad at her that she left (not that I think she chose cancer, of course - I never said I was always rational).
My dad, far less of a hero, has been gone for 6 years, and that has been a tough ride for entirely different reasons.
Above all else, I've had to deal with the guilt of feeling relieved about some things I'm probably "not supposed to".
In both cases I spent far too much time wondering if I was grieving normally, or if I was broken.
I knew what I was feeling, and I didn't like it. I felt like I was drowning, and living my life was really hard. Like I was carrying around my grief like a giant weight tied to my waist.
I knew I wanted - needed - to start feeling better. To change my relationship to grief, and to the ghosts of my parents. But I couldn't find what I needed to do so.
I wanted a STRUCTURE to work through my grief.
But I didn't want judgement, and I didn't want to participate in performative crap that didn't feel like me.
I wanted to quit pretending that grief followed rules, and just stand up and face it head on.
Since I couldn't find what I needed, eventually I just created it.
The Aftermath may be exactly what you need, too. It is a guided exploration of your grief. 90 days of daily prompts that meet you where you actually are - not where grief literature says you should be.
Five minutes a day. One prompt in your inbox every morning. No toxic positivity, no timeline pressure, no promises that this will heal you.
Just 90 different ways to look at what you're carrying, finish conversations that got interrupted, and build a practice of moving forward that doesn't require pretending you're fine.
The Aftermath exists because I wish someone had given me a structured practice that acknowledged this reality instead of promising it would get better with time.
It didn't get better. It got weirder. This is about making peace with the weird.
90 daily email prompts (one every morning for three months)
5-minute exercises that take grief seriously without taking it solemnly
A structured practice for people who have lost structure
Permission to feel what you're actually feeling instead of what you're 'supposed to' feel
Proof that you aren't the only person feeling how you are feeling
A way to re-start the conversations with your dead parents that didn't get finished
A method for moving forward that doesn't require moving on
An exploration on your time, at your pace, that can be whatever you need it to be
Therapy (it costs less than a quarter of a single average session)
A cure (grief doesn't work that way)
A timeline (You don't 'graduate' from missing your parents)
Bullshit about silver linings and everything happening for a reason
You change your oil every 3,000 miles. You see the dentist twice a year. You cut your hair when it's too long. But your grief? You just... carry it around hoping it'll fix itself. The Aftermath is maintenance for the big, ugly thing you've been avoiding.

The Core Format:
90 consecutive daily emails
5 minute exercises. (Or as much time as you want. You are in charge of your process - I just provide the framework, and help build the habit)
These aren't cheesy journal prompts about honoring their memory or finding closure. These are unique thought launchers from someone who has been where you are, and knows exactly how little fun it is.
There are no rules for what to do with them. Write your response. Imagine a conversation with them. It's about facing your grief, not following specific directions.
The conversations that got interrupted and need finishing
The ways you've changed without noticing
The relief, anger and ambivalence you're not supposed to admit
The triggers that ambush you in ordinary moments
The inheritance beyond objects - patterns, voices, unresolved conflicts
Your relationship with their absence versus their memory
The person you're becoming without their witness
The questions that have no answers but need asking anyway
The permission you need but no one's giving you
What moving forward actually means when it doesn't mean forgetting
Some days will hit hard. Some days will feel irrelevant. Some days will make you laugh at how accurately they describe your particular brand of dysfunction.
All of them assume you're intelligent, self-aware, and capable of handling complexity.
None of them assume you're broken or need fixing.
Yes it is, if:
> One or both of your parents are dead
> You're tired of people asking if you're over it yet
> You need structure but not stricture
> You want to process grief without performing it
> You're okay with dark humor about difficult things
> You recognize that moving forward doesn't mean leaving them behind
> You're willing to spend 5 minutes a day on yourself
> You'd rather spend $47 than explain one more time why you're sad
No it isn't, if:
> You're looking for a cure (this isn't that)
> You need everything to be gentle and soft (this is honest, not harsh, but it's direct)
> You're not ready to engage with your grief yet (timing matters, and that's okay)
> You prefer traditional grief resources (they exist for a reason - use them if they work)
Your relationship with your parents was complicated
Your grief is messy and contradictory
Moving forward doesn't mean forgetting
You're capable of handling hard truths
Five minutes of intentional practice beats hours of avoidance
Structure helps even when nothing else does
Your parents died and you're supposed to figure out how to live without them.
No one taught you how to do this.
Most grief resources are written by people who've never lost a parent, or who lost parents they had uncomplicated relationships with, or who believe that everything happens for a reason.
The Aftermath won't fix you.
You're not broken.
But if you're tired of standing still, waiting to feel ready to start processing, this gives you something to start with.
90 days. 5 minutes per day. $47.
You've spent far more on far worse decisions.
What if I miss a day?
The prompts arrive daily but they don't expire. Go at your own pace. The goal is progress, not perfection.
What if I'm not a "journaling person"?
Don't worry, neither am I. These aren't traditional journal prompts. Many are thinking exercises, permission statements, or conversation starters. Do them in your head, on your phone, on paper—whatever works.
Are these just random prompts you'll throw at me?
Nope. I put a whole lot of thought, work, and testing into how they are structured. They are grouped into themes of one to three weeks in length, and within each theme there is moderation of intensity and type of prompts. It's a carefully orchestrated journey - not just some crap that sounded good that I threw together to make a few bucks.
Why a daily email format?
We tested several formats, and this was by far the best one. With an e-book, it's too easy to start strong but then lose momentum. A PDF is too easy to ignore - how many are on your hard drive that you've never even read? If you have to log into something every day, most people won't. No one needs to get yet another app or piece of software. This was the best way to put the prompt at the front of mind every day, and to integrate it into their life. It's the easiest way to build a habit because it arrives at the same time every day without any action from you. And the simplicity is part of the beauty, too.
Will this make me cry?
Maybe. Some prompts might hit hard. Others might make you laugh. Others might feel irrelevant. That's the nature of grief—it's unpredictable.
What do the prompts look like?
There are many different formats - I keep it fresh, and try to exercise different emotional muscles each day. As an example, though, Day 11 is an interesting one because it combines thought and potentially action: 'Find one thing of your parents that you have kept out of a sense of obligation that you actually hate having. Why does it make you feel like that? Why do you feel obligated to keep it? What would happen if you got rid of it? Is it time?'
Is this religious/spiritual?
No. The prompts are secular and don't assume any particular belief system about death or afterlife.
What if my parents died recently vs. years ago?
The prompts work for both. Grief doesn't follow a timeline. Some will resonate more depending on where you are, just as some will resonate more or less depending on who you are. There is more than enough here for anyone to sink their teeth into.
Can I buy this for someone else?
I'm not going to stop you, but it's not the best idea. For this approach to work you need to be open to it. Forcing it on someone who isn't ready or willing can cause them to take a step back when you are trying to help them move forward. You are much better off showing them this page and letting them decide for themselves.
What's your refund policy?
If after the first month you decide this isn't for you, email me and I'll refund you. No questions asked. Life is hard enough without fighting over $47.
Is there a time when The Aftermath isn't enough for what I need?
There may be. The Aftermath is a daily practice for processing grief. It is not therapy, crisis intervention, or mental health treatment.
If you're experiencing any of the following, please reach out to a mental health professional instead of (or in addition to) using these prompts:
Thoughts of harming yourself or others
Inability to function in daily life (can't work, can't care for yourself, can't get out of bed for extended periods)
Substance use that's become a primary coping mechanism
Grief that's preventing you from meeting basic needs (eating, sleeping, hygiene)
Symptoms of severe depression or anxiety that interfere with your ability to live
Isolation so complete that you've cut off all human contact
Physical health declining due to grief
Grief is brutal. Sometimes it requires more support than a daily email can provide.
If you're in crisis right now:
US: National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 988 or 1-800-273-8255
Canada: Talk Suicide Canada: 1-833-456-4566
UK: Samaritans: 116 123
Australia: Lifeline: 13 11 14
Finding a therapist:
Psychology Today therapist directory: psychologytoday.com/us/therapists
Open Path Collective (affordable therapy): openpathcollective.org
Your doctor can provide referrals
This practice assumes you're functional but struggling—not in crisis.
If you're in crisis, please get help from someone who can actually help. These prompts will still be here when you're ready.
“I signed up thinking I’d ignore half the emails and maybe journal once a week. But this felt different. Each prompt landed like it was written by someone who actually gets it — the confusion, the quiet anger, the weird guilt. I’ve never felt so seen by something so simple.”
Lost her mom 9 years ago
“After my mom died, every day felt like survival. This gave me something else — not closure, but contact. With myself, with her, with the weirdness of it all. I didn’t need therapy homework. I needed exactly this: a way to stop avoiding, without being overwhelmed”
Orphan for 7 years and counting
“Grief books made me feel broken. This made me feel human. The Aftermath didn’t try to fix me or wrap things up with a bow — it just helped me keep going. I laughed. I cried. I wrote things I didn’t even know I believed. It’s the only thing I’ve stuck with since my dad died.”
Lost both parents in 2012
★★★★★
"Day 11 made me get rid of my mom's hideous vase I'd been storing for three years. I cried, then laughed, then felt lighter than I had in months. These prompts don't mess around—they make you actually DO something instead of just thinking about doing something."
Sarah K.
Lost her mother 3 years ago
★★★★★
"I've been to four different therapists since my dad died. None of them got me to say out loud that I was relieved about certain things until Day 19. That one prompt unlocked something that $4,000 in therapy couldn't touch. I'm not saying this replaces therapy, but it hit different."
Marcus T.
Lost his father 2 years ago
★★★★★
"Day 47 told me to have the argument with my mom that I never got to have and let myself win. I sat in my car and screamed at her for twenty minutes. My neighbors probably think I'm insane. I felt insane. And then I felt... done with that particular piece of anger. First time anything has actually shifted."
Jennifer R.
Lost her mother 8 months ago
★★★★★
"The 'missing what you never liked' section destroyed me in the best way. Day 74 asked about flaws I missed—I wrote three pages about my dad's terrible jokes and how I'd give anything to roll my eyes at one more. I've been crying 'wrong' for six years, apparently. These prompts finally let me cry right."
David C.
Lost his father 6 years ago
★★★★★
"I bought this thinking I'd do it for a week and quit. I'm on Day 68 and haven't missed one. Not because I'm disciplined—because each morning I actually WANT to see what the prompt is. That's never happened with any grief resource, journal, or workbook I've tried. It feels like someone who gets it is texting me every morning."
Amanda F.
Lost both parents within 18 months
★★★★★
"Day 84 asked me to write a thank you for something I never thanked my mom for. I realized I never thanked her for leaving me alone when I needed space. She knew. She always knew. I sobbed at my kitchen table at 7:20 AM on a Tuesday. The Aftermath doesn't give you closure—it gives you five minutes a day to stop pretending you're fine. That's worth way more than $47."
Rachel M.
Lost her mother 4 years ago
If you have read this far then I know The Aftermath is right for you. I have no doubt.
But something's stopping you from committing.
I have a pretty good guess what it is.
Does this sound familiar?:
You been meaning to 'deal with' your grief.
You've been telling yourself you'll start journaling, find a grief group, find a shrink, process your feelings, or something.
But you haven't done it for a number of reasons. Maybe these ones:
You don't know where to start
Every grief resource assumes you know what you need. You don't. You just know that what you're doing isn't quite working.
What you're already doing isn't enough
You're managing. You're functioning. You're showing up. But you're also avoiding, deflecting, and operating on autopilot. The coping mechanisms that got you through the first months aren't actually processing anything—they're just keeping you moving.
You don't have people who understand
Your friends mean well. Your living family is dealing with their own grief. Grief groups feel performative. Therapy is expensive and you're tired of explaining context. The people who would understand what you're going through are the ones you lost.
You're exhausted from carrying this alone
Grief is isolating. It's made worse by the fact that everyone else has moved on while you're still figuring out how to exist in this new reality. You need structure, but you need it from someone who gets it.
Starting feels overwhelming
The gap between "I should process my grief" and "I'm actively processing my grief" is enormous. You need a bridge. Something that makes starting simple instead of monumental.
The perfect moment doesn't exist
You're waiting to feel ready. You're waiting for the right time, the right energy, the right headspace. But grief doesn't give you perfect conditions. It just gives you today.
solves the structure problem.
provides the kick in the butt you need.
shows you how to get started.
gives you the push you need to get moving.
strips you of excuses.
Just show up for 5 minutes. Do the prompt. Move forward incrementally.
Some movement is always better than standing still waiting for the perfect moment to begin.
Just $47 for 90 days of daily prompts. That's:
Less than the a quarter of the cost of an average single therapy session
Just 52 cents per day - there's probably more in your couch cushions right now
The cost of a pretty standard lunch for two that you'll eat and immediately forget
A fraction of what you'd pay for a grief workshop or course.
You'll receive immediate access and a welcome email explaining how this works
Starting tomorrow morning at 7:15 am ET, you'll get one prompt in your inbox daily
You'll spend 5 minutes (or more, if you want) engaging with it
This continues for 90 consecutive days. After 90 days, you'll have built a practice of showing up for your grief instead of avoiding it
Just 90 days of prompts that treat you like an adult capable of handling complexity.
If The Aftermath isn't working for you after 30 days, I’ll refund your money - life's too hard to fight over $47
Thank you for trusting The Aftermath.
I'll do everything I can to give you everything you need