Podcast Summary: A Place of Yes | A Grief Podcast
Episode: Grieving Through Song: A Musician’s Journey After Losing His Son
Host: Heather Straughter (Jake’s Help From Heaven)
Guest: Jeff Brisbane
Date: October 15, 2025
Episode Overview
In this deeply moving episode, host Heather Straughter welcomes musician Jeff Brisbane for an honest exploration of parental grief, healing, and remembrance after the loss of his son, Josh, to suicide fourteen years ago. Together, they discuss the ongoing evolution of grief, the unique ways their children’s memories persist, and the integral role music has played in Jeff’s survival and honoring of Josh’s memory. The conversation is raw, compassionate, and filled with practical wisdom for anyone navigating loss.
Key Discussion Points & Insights
Introducing Jeff and Remembering Josh
- Starting on a Light Note: Heather asks Jeff about something he’s recently said “yes” to, emphasizing the importance of embracing joy amid sorrow.
- Portrait of Josh: Jeff offers vivid stories of Josh’s personality—quiet, introspective, with a sharp wit, the youngest boy among six siblings, and a computer enthusiast.
- Favorite Memories: Family Christmases and small, quirky traditions, such as calling out “Joshes!” across campus. (02:33)
- Jeff: “He’d be sitting over there when his brothers would get going, and they'd make him laugh, and then he'd come out with a zinger.” (01:56)
The Day of Loss and Early Grief
- The Shock of That Night: Jeff recounts receiving the call about Josh’s death while finishing a music gig. The crushing pain and disbelief remain visceral.
- Jeff: “I just screamed and I went in the parking lot... and just was calling the rest of my kids once I got myself together.” (06:28)
- Josh’s Death by Suicide: Details of Josh’s method, the aftermath, and the note he left: “I am worthless.” (12:20)
- Raw Parental Pain: Jeff shares the challenges—guilt, self-blame (“I fought that for two years” (08:50)), and the toll of feeling powerless.
The Ongoing Tides of Grief
- Ever-Present Loss: Both Heather and Jeff describe the unpredictable nature of grief—how waves of sadness strike, even after years.
- Jeff: “Grief is like the tides... I still have days where I’ll just be sitting at home and it’ll just hit me and I’ll scream.” (28:49)
- Permission to Feel Joy Again: Early guilt over laughing or feeling happy, and coming to terms with carrying grief alongside moments of light.
- Keeping Memories Alive: Family rituals, photo walls, annual remembrances, and openly talking about Josh help sustain his presence.
Supernatural Signs and Staying Connected
- Signs from Josh: Mysterious motion-activated lights in Jeff’s closet that turn on in response to requests, believed to be communication from Josh.
- Jeff: “So I, of course I want to believe it's him. I said, ‘Josh, if it's you, just turn the right one on.’ Only the right one comes on.” (15:02)
- Shared Spiritual Comfort: Heather recounts similar experiences—objects moving or making sounds—interpreted as her son’s presence, reinforcing the solace and meaning these small events bring. (18:00)
Parenting Through Grief and Finding Community
- Other Children as Salvation: Jeff credits his children and ongoing family connections (even across cities) with keeping him moving forward.
- Jeff: “My kids are my salvation. Number one thing... Just seeing them, being around them rejuvenates me. It fills my heart.” (23:45-24:18)
- The “Worst Club”: Both describe the unique support found in fellow bereaved parents and the “responsibility” to support new members of this club no one wants to join.
- Offering Support to Others: Jeff makes himself available as a resource for others who newly face child loss: “It’s medicine for me too.” (25:10)
Grief, Guilt, and Finding Purpose
- Struggles with “Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda” and Blame: Jeff details years of self-questioning and the value of professional grief counseling.
- Need for Understanding: Advice for those supporting bereaved families—talk about the child, say their name, don’t be afraid to ask about them.
Music as Salvation and Ongoing Tribute
- Music’s Central Role: Jeff’s lifelong connection to music became a lifeline in grief, both as solace and emotional outlet.
- Jeff: “I want to write something that’s going to take your heart, massage it gently and put it back in. I want you to feel something.” (39:22)
- Songwriting and Performance: Songs for and about Josh are part of Jeff’s regular performances—“Creep” by Radiohead was a favorite of Josh’s, and Jeff wrote “Same Old Moon” specifically for his son.
- Live Song Performance (“Same Old Moon”):
- Lyrics reflect enduring connection and longing:
“You’re gone and I stay / Every now and then I pray by the same old moon / Same stars, same sky... Share the same old moon, same stars, same sky.” (44:09-46:18) - Heather reacts emotionally:
“You’ve captured exactly the loss, like the foreverness of it… It’s the simple truth.” (46:47)
- Lyrics reflect enduring connection and longing:
The Evolution of Grief and Holding On
- Stages and Debunking the Timeline Myth: Both note that grief never really ends; it shifts and resurfaces over time.
- Imagining Who They’d Be: Jeff and Heather discuss the tender, sometimes surreal practice of picturing their children as they would be today—through imagined milestones, AI renderings, or stories from friends.
Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments
- On Letting Go of Guilt:
- Heather: “I don't let myself a lot of time, like live in the guilt or like shoulda woulda, coulda, because… you can't change it, even if you stay in that space.” (08:08)
- On Signs from Beyond:
- Jeff: “The last two years… the lights started going on. I said, ‘Josh, if that’s you, turn that light on.’ Only the right one comes on.” (15:02)
- On Supporting New Bereaved Parents:
- Jeff: “The only positive thing about Joshi going—I've had probably in the last 14 years over 20 people sent to be my friends… And it's medicine for me too.” (25:10)
- On Grief’s Oceanic Nature:
- Jeff: “To me, grief is like the tides... It'll let you breathe and comes back.” (28:49)
- On Keeping Memories Alive:
- Jeff: “I post the day it happened. I tell people what happened to me that day... I think it’s important to talk about that person after they're gone. Otherwise, it’s like they never existed.” (50:09-51:34)
- On Songwriting:
- Jeff: “Sometimes it’s like somebody whispers it in your ear. It heals me. It brings me back to realizing everything’s gonna be okay. As okay as it can be.” (47:38)
Important Timestamps
- 01:56 – Jeff describes Josh’s personality and family memories
- 05:51 – Jeff recounts the night Josh died and the initial aftermath
- 08:50 – Discussion of guilt and parental self-blame after loss
- 12:20 – Josh’s final note: “I am worthless”
- 14:15–17:13 – Signs, lights, and supernatural comfort from Josh
- 23:45–24:18 – Parenting through grief and relying on family
- 28:49 – Grief as the tide analogy, and living with recurring waves of pain
- 39:08–43:28 – Jeff’s journey as a musician and the emotional power of songwriting
- 44:09–46:18 – Live performance: “Same Old Moon”
- 50:09–51:54 – Advice for friends and family: talk about the person, say their name
Resources Mentioned
- Grief Counseling: Jeff recommends hospice services like those in Saratoga for anyone struggling with loss.
- Contact Jeff Brisbane & His Music:
- Website: jeffbrisbane.com
- Spotify, Apple Music, Instagram: Search “Jeff Brisbane”
- Phone number available via his website, open to conversations with those grieving.
Closing Reflections
This episode offers a profound, real look at the non-linear journey of grief, the impossibility of “moving on” but the power in moving forward, and the daily work of keeping loved ones close through ritual, music, and memory. Jeff’s vulnerability in sharing his story—and his music—serves as both comfort and permission for others to grieve openly, seek joy, and hold onto hope.
Heather:
“I say it all the time—ask us. Say their name. You’re not going to remind me they’re gone; you’re not going to make us feel worse. In fact, you’ll make us feel better.” (51:34)
For listeners navigating loss, this episode holds space for both devastation and love’s enduring resonance—a place of yes, indeed.
