Grief is Agony. Grief is Comfort

Every June, when the trees are in full leaf and our Indiana evenings linger in a painterly twilight, I find myself wading through a familiar, complicated pool of grief. It’s a month stamped with birthdays no longer celebrated, anniversaries that arrive in silence, and memories that surface without invitation. If you, too, carry a similar ache, know that you’re not alone. At the Community Foundation of White County, we sit beside many families in this season—listening, remembering, and gently exploring how love can keep working in the world long after a life has ended.

Grief is, undeniably, agony. It can catch in your throat and blur your days. Yet grief can also be comfort—the quiet reassurance that the bond you shared was real and lasting. Turning that comfort outward is where we often begin our work together. In heartfelt conversations around kitchen tables and park benches, donors share stories that sparkle with personality: a grandmother who taught every neighborhood child to read, a coach who never missed a game, a musician whose lullabies still echo in the family farmhouse.

Together, we ask a simple question: How might this love keep living? 

Sometimes, the answer becomes a scholarship, giving another young person the chance that a beloved teacher once championed. Sometimes, it blooms into an unrestricted endowment, quietly strengthening every grant the Foundation makes on behalf of White County—just as a generous neighbor once strengthened every corner of the community. Other times, it grows into a field-of-interest fund, lighting the way for causes that meant everything to someone now gone. And in some cases, families choose an advised fund, gathering each year to recommend grants that echo the passions of the one they’re honoring—transforming remembrance into an annual reunion of purpose and grace.

None of these paths erase the loss, but each one braids hope into the hurt. Your loved one’s story gains fresh chapters, written in scholarships awarded, programs launched, and neighbors lifted. Generosity becomes the language that grief speaks fluently saying, “I miss you. I believe in what you believed in. I will carry your light forward.”

Of course, memorial gifts are only one way to honor those we love. Planting a garden, organizing a day of service, cooking their favorite recipe for friends—these gestures matter deeply, too. If, however, you sense that a fund might be part of your healing journey, know that our doors (and hearts) are open. We’ll move at your pace, hold space for your stories, and handle every detail with care, so that agony can soften into comfort and comfort can blossom into impact.