The Space Grief Makes for Us

Why Children’s Grief Deserves More Than Just Comfort—and How Camps Like These Are Redefining Healing

Grief has a tendency to hover—at the edges of school cafeterias, in silence between friends, or in the drawing of a child who no longer sees their parent at bedtime. For many young people, grief doesn’t arrive with language or neat explanations. It simply stays.

On a recent July weekend in Washington, D.C., The Wendt Center for Loss and Healing hosted its annual grief camp—an event devoted to children and teenagers who have experienced the death of a close loved one. This was not a quiet, somber retreat. It was 2.2 miles from Capitol Hill and charged with the messy, bright, and complex emotions that grief brings with it.

Participants painted flags in honor of their lost parents. They etched kind reminders to themselves onto wooden hearts. They cried in corners and then danced—sweat and joy mingling in a gym where a DJ blasted go-go beats.

This sort of setting is not simply therapeutic; it is essential. According to data from the Childhood Bereavement Estimation Model, 1 in 14 children in the U.S. will experience the death of a parent or sibling by age 18. That translates to roughly 5.6 million children currently grieving.

And yet, as of 2024, less than 20% of U.S. school systems include formal grief support services, leaving community organizations like the Wendt Center to fill a deep and widening void.

Psychologist and grief researcher Dr. Phyllis Kosminsky notes that “when children aren’t supported in their grief, they may internalize it, leading to long-term emotional, academic, and social challenges.” This extends beyond sadness. Untended grief can result in behavioral issues, sleep disturbances, and even chronic health conditions into adulthood, as outlined by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

The Wendt Center’s camp, however, does something subtle yet transformative—it provides children with agency in their grief. They’re not given lectures; they’re handed paintbrushes. They're not told how to feel; they’re asked what they miss.

Only 15% of grieving children report receiving any form of formal counseling.

Even as mental health support gains traction nationally, grief remains poorly understood and inconsistently addressed. Many people associate it with a linear process—“stages,” checklists, time limits. But, as anyone who has grieved can tell you, it is neither a countdown nor a curriculum.

For children especially, grief often resurfaces as they grow, revisiting earlier losses with new awareness at each developmental milestone. A ten-year-old may not fully comprehend the death of a parent—but at 16, when applying for college or dating, that absence takes on new shape.

This is why grief camps matter. They are not about “moving on.” They are about staying connected—to memory, to peers, and to a future that doesn’t erase the past but folds it into meaning.

Children who participate in structured grief programs are 50% more likely to demonstrate long-term emotional resilience.

The author of the USA Today piece shared her own experience of losing her father: “Alive, and seven weeks later, not.” That sharp pivot is something many children know too well—and too early. But grief doesn’t only exist in silence or sadness. It’s also in the laughter at camp, the shared understanding between two kids who don’t have to explain their pain, and the quiet pride of creating something beautiful from a memory.

Medical Disclaimer

The information provided in this article is for educational and informational purposes only and is not intended as medical advice. It should not be used to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any medical or mental health condition. Always seek the guidance of a qualified healthcare professional or licensed mental health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition, diagnosis, or treatment. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay seeking it because of something you have read here.