The Hairspray I never use: A Personal story of Continuing Bonds

There's a can of hairspray that lives in my house.

It sits on a shelf, gathering dust, untouched by my own hair. Yet I keep buying it, this exact brand, this specific variation, over and over again.

🪷 This was my Nanna's scent. 🪷

She wore this particular hairspray, always. She died when I was 18, and yet this smell still holds everything: the love, the loss, the ache of missing her, the doorway into my grief.

Just the other day, as I took a photo of that familiar can, I spritzed my room with it. For a moment, brief but profound, I was closer to her.

This is continuing bonds.

What are continuing bonds?

Continuing bonds is the practice of staying connected to someone who has died, keeping the relationship alive in a different form. It's a concept that challenges older models of grief, which suggested we needed to 'let go' or 'move on' from our loved ones.

Instead, continuing bonds acknowledges what many grieving people already know in their hearts: that love doesn't end with death. The relationship transforms, yes, but it continues.

We find ways to keep our people close. We speak their names. We honour their memory. We carry them with us, not as a burden, but as a beloved presence that shapes who we are.

The many forms of connection

Continuing bonds takes countless forms, as unique and varied as the relationships we hold.

Some people wear their loved one's jewellery or clothing. Others cook their recipes, visit places that were meaningful to them, or keep photos and objects that carry memories.

You might celebrate their birthday, plant a tree in their honour, talk to them (whether aloud or in quiet moments of reflection), carry on their values or passions, or tell stories about them to keep their memory alive in community.

For me, it's hairspray. Small, simple, and entirely mine. A scent that bridges the gap between the world that was, when she was here, and the world that is, where I continue without her physical presence but never without her influence.

Why this matters

When we're grieving, we often hear messages, spoken or unspoken, that suggest we should 'move on,' 'get closure,' or 'let go.' These phrases, though usually well-intentioned, can feel profoundly wrong.

Continuing bonds offers a different narrative.

🪷 You don't have to let go. You can integrate your loss into your life while still honouring the connection. 🪷

This isn't about staying stuck in the past or refusing to accept the reality of death. It's about finding a new way forward that includes, rather than excludes, the person who died.

Research shows that maintaining these bonds can actually support healthy grief adaptation. It provides comfort, meaning, and a sense of ongoing connection that many people find essential to their healing.

Finding your own continuing bonds

There's no right or wrong way to maintain connection with someone who has died. What matters is that it feels meaningful to you.

You might find connection through sensory experiences, like my hairspray, or perhaps a particular song, food, or place.

Rituals and traditions can help: lighting a candle on special days, visiting their grave, or continuing a hobby you shared.

Legacy and action matter too. Volunteering for a cause they cared about, or embodying values they taught you.

Communication takes many shapes: writing letters to them, speaking to them in moments of need, or sharing stories about them with others.

Symbolic objects can hold meaning: keeping items that mattered, creating memory boxes, or wearing something that belonged to them.

Whatever form it takes, continuing bonds is about acknowledging that our loved ones remain part of our story, woven into who we are and how we move through the world.

What does connection look like for you?

I'd love to hear: what do you do to stay close to your people who've died?

Maybe it's a ritual you've created, a place you visit, something you wear, or a way you speak their name. Maybe it's something as simple as a can of hairspray that sits on a shelf.

These connections, small and sacred, profound and personal, are how we carry our loved ones forward. Not as ghosts of the past, but as enduring presences in our ongoing lives.

Because grief isn't about letting go. It's about learning to hold on differently.

🪷🪷🪷