Chasing the Light: Finding Connection in the Night Sky

Vibrant green Northern Lights dancing over a snowy Alaskan treeline, representing connection and continuing bonds after loss.

Chasing the Light: Finding Connection in the Night Sky

In March of 2020, my mother, my beloved Aunt Vicky, and I traveled to Finland with one specific goal: to see the Northern Lights. We spent those cold nights looking upward, waiting for the sky to dance. But the lights never appeared.

Shortly after we returned home, Vicky was diagnosed with ALS. She died just a year later. She was one of the most vibrant people that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Her devastating and ultimately fatal illness shook us all. 

For a long time, that trip to Finland felt like a beautiful but unfinished story. It was our last big adventure together before everything changed. The "missing" lights became a symbol of the things we lost to her illness; the time we thought we had, the conversations we assumed we’d still be having.

When Nature Holds Our Memories

Nature has a way of holding our grief when it feels too heavy for us to carry alone. In the year Vicky lived with ALS, I learned that grief isn't about "getting over" a loss, but about finding a way to stay connected to the person who is gone.

In my practice, I often talk about Continuing Bonds. This therapeutic model suggests that our relationships don’t end when a person dies; they simply change form. We find them in the things they loved, the lessons they taught us, and sometimes, in the very things we once sought together.

Alaska: A Promise Kept

In January of 2026, my husband and I traveled to Alaska. Standing in the frozen silence, I looked up and finally saw them: the Northern Lights, ribbons of green and violet stretching across the dark.

In that moment, I didn't just feel like I was seeing a natural phenomenon; I felt Vicky. It felt as though the story we started in Finland had finally found its conclusion. The lights weren't just lights; they were a bridge.

This is the power of nature in the grieving process. It provides a vast, quiet canvas where we can project our love and our longing. Seeing the lights didn't take away the pain of her absence, but it transformed it. It was a reminder that even when someone is no longer physically here, the bond we share remains vibrant and alive.

Navigating the "Wait" of Grief

ALS is a cruel and fast-moving disease, and grieving a sudden or terminal diagnosis often leaves us feeling like we are constantly waiting; waiting for news, waiting for the end, and then waiting for the pain to ebb.

If you are in that "waiting" period of grief, please know:

  • The "unfinished" stories still matter. The trip where you didn't see the lights is just as precious as the one where you did. The meaning was in being together.

  • Connection can happen anywhere. You don't have to travel to Finland or Alaska to feel close to your person. Continuing bonds can be found in a specific song, a familiar scent, or a quiet moment in your own backyard.

  • Nature offers a different kind of silence. When the world feels too loud with expectations of "moving on," the stillness of the natural world can be a sanctuary.

Finding Your Own "Northern Lights"

Grief is a long, winding road, and there are moments when the sky feels very dark. But as I stood under that Alaskan sky, I was reminded that the light is still there, even when we can’t see it.

Whether you are navigating suicide loss, the complexities of overdose loss, or the heartbreak of a terminal illness like ALS, your bonds are not broken. They are simply waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves in a new way.

If you are looking for a space to explore your own continuing bonds, I offer grief therapy in Denver and virtual support across Pennsylvania. Together, we can look for the light in your story.

Is there a place or a natural phenomenon that makes you feel closest to your person? If so, please share in the comments. I would love to hear about the 'Northern Lights' in your own life.


Ready to find a lighter way forward? You don't have to carry this heavy burden alone.

I offer in-person grief therapy in the Denver, Colorado, area and virtual therapy across all of Colorado and Pennsylvania.

Take the next step: Schedule a free, 15-minute consultation today to see how we can start working through your unique grief journey together.

Click here to connect.


Laura Vargas, MSW, LCSW Vargas Counseling and Consulting www.vargascounseling.com

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