When a family reaches out to me, they're often in the thick of grief, those early days when everything feels too heavy and too much. They're not looking for a designer. They're looking for someone who understands that what we're creating together isn't just paper and ink. It's a way to hold onto someone they love. It's proof that their person mattered.

Grief doesn't arrive the same way for everyone. For some, it's a tidal wave: loud, relentless, impossible to ignore. For others, it's quieter, slower, like fog that settles in and won't quite lift. But somewhere in the middle of it all, we find our own small ways to keep the people we've lost close. Little gestures that bring comfort. Moments that let the light back in, even if just for a breath.

When someone you love dies, the days that follow feel like you're moving through water. Everything is slow and heavy, yet somehow there's so much to organise, so many decisions to make when all you really want is to curl up and disappear for a while. But somewhere in the fog, most families find themselves wanting the same thing: to create something personal. Something that feels like them.