From Loss to Lament: Reflections on Songwriting and Grief on Cape Breton Island
By Sarah McInnis, Music Therapist at Valley Hospice
Recently, I had the privilege of attending the 50th National Conference for the Canadian Association of Music Therapists (CAMT). The CAMT is the national accrediting body that promotes excellence in music therapy practice, education, and research across Canada. This landmark conference, this year hosted in Halifax, Nova Scotia, brought together music therapists from across the country. This milestone event featured keynote speakers, workshops, and networking opportunities, offering a space for professionals to reflect on the field’s evolution, share knowledge, and explore the future of music therapy in Canada.
When I was there I attended a session called *From Loss to Lament*, conducted by Meaghan Jackson. The study explores the deeply rooted tradition of songwriting as an expression of grief on Cape Breton Island. As a music therapist working in palliative care at Valley Hospice, this research spoke to something I’ve witnessed time and again: the power of music to hold, express, and transform grief in profoundly personal—and often communal—ways.
Music and song have long been used as vessels for storytelling—offering a way for memories and emotions to survive across generations and geographies. On Cape Breton Island, this is especially true. The legacy of Gaelic laments, Mi’kmaq honour songs, and narrative obituaries (like those popularized by Ron Caplan in Northern Cape Breton) serve not only as cultural artefacts but as active tools for healing.
Even in the Milling Frolic songs—available on YouTube via *The Gaels of Cape Breton*— (at 10 minutes, 30 seconds) we can hear threads of community, resilience, and connection in the midst of loss. Likewise, Mi’kmaq elder George Paul’s honour songs and the evocative words of poet Rita Joe, whose “I Lost My Talk” stands as a poetic act of reclamation and healing, highlight how song and story offer space for grief and voice.
Grief asks us to make meaning in the wake of loss. Narrative grief therapy invites us to tell our stories—and songwriting can be a uniquely powerful way of doing so. At Valley Hospice, we often talk about helping people put the intangible into words, and then giving them a safe place to share that story with others. This aligns with the framework of Warden’s four tasks of grieving: accepting the reality of loss, working through the pain, adjusting to a world without the deceased, and finding a way to remain connected while moving forward.
In her research, Meaghan Jackson interviewed three Cape Breton songwriters about how they use songwriting to explore and express grief. She analyzed their experiences using Braun & Clarke’s (2006) Inductive Thematic Analysis and identified three central themes:
- **Transformative Grief Journey**
Songwriting offered these musicians a “safe container” to process complex grief responses. One artist described how music helped them move forward, not by “getting over it,” but by integrating loss into the fabric of their life. There was also a beautiful acceptance of difficult emotions—a reminder that grief is not something to be fixed, but to be carried, shaped, and sometimes sung into being.
- **Cultivating Connection**
For those in the study, songwriting was not only personal but social. Creating music with others eased isolation, fostered connection, and often helped them feel heard. As a music therapist, I’ve seen how group songwriting can create a sense of belonging, even in life’s most isolating moments.
- **Intrinsic Practice**
These artists spoke of songwriting as a way of life—a reflexive, intrinsic practice. There was a kind of trust in the process, even when navigating tragedy. One participant noted they were “treating every tragedy as a chance to write a song about it”—a line that speaks to the resilience that can emerge through creativity.
Cultural Roots & Musical Knowing
Reading this research reminded me to reflect on a vital question: What are our clients’ ways of knowing? Grief is never a one-size-fits-all experience. Our clients’ ancestry, stories, and traditions shape how they express sorrow and how they find hope. Understanding these roots helps us as therapists to create culturally informed, compassionate spaces—where a song can do more than soothe; it can restore identity, honour legacy, and foster meaning.
The “Slow Goodbye”
There’s a phrase from Meaghan’s research that stayed with me: “a fascination with the ‘slow goodbye.’” So often, in hospice care, we live in that space—slow goodbyes marked by music, memory, silence, and song. Songwriting doesn’t make that goodbye easier, but it does offer a way to hold it. To witness it. To honour it.
As we continue to explore new ways to support our clients through grief, let’s remember the old ways, too. Cape Breton’s musical traditions remind us that grief is not just something to endure, but something that can be transformed—one note, one word, one song at a time.