Meet Our Mentors
The stories of the Grief Mentors at First Hour are born of personal experience, We’ve been where you are right now, each of us just a little different from the next, but all of us bound together in this journey called Grief.
Regardless of your story, we know your loss is raw and real. We get that.
That’s why we’ve assembled an incredibly compassionate group of Grief Mentors standing-by and ready to meet you where you are.
But we won’t know you’re there if you don’t let us know.
Please use our Contact Us form to ask for more information about support options or call (502) 791-9938. We now have two locations to serve you: 409 Marquette Drive (In Lyndon) and 8307 St. Andrews Church Road (Just off Dixie Highway). All meetings are by appointment only.
Lisa Schardein
Executive Director
Lisa’s most difficult grief journey began in 2011 when her 19-year-old son, Ben, was tragically killed by a drunk driver. Ben was her only child, and their bond was often described as “the best of friends.” That devastating loss came just a few years after her brother Philip passed away suddenly at 42 and two years before her father succumbed to cancer in 2013.
After Ben’s death, Lisa sought support to navigate the overwhelming pain. She turned to a grief group at her church, where she had previously found healing while helping her nephew, Adam, who had lived with her family after losing his father, Philip.
Through these experiences, Lisa realized the profound impact of community and faith in processing grief.
Determined to honor Ben’s memory and help others, Lisa now serves as Executive Director of First Hour Grief Response, while also facilitating grief support groups, offering one-on-one mentoring, and leading initiatives to support those who have suffered sudden loss.
Though life will never be the same without Ben, Lisa has found joy again through her faith, her supportive husband, and her growing family of grandchildren. She is passionate about walking alongside others on their grief journey, reminding them that healing is possible.
“God has not wasted one second of this pain,” she says. “Through it, He has brought beautiful people into my life.”
Pam Chancey
Director of Operations & Advancement
Grief became part of my life early. I lost my grandparents as a child and saw my parents try to appear “okay,” even though I knew they weren’t. I felt the shift in our family and the loss of my joyful, loving Nanny left a lasting emptiness I still feel today.
My husband and I had our first son and were thrilled to grow our family. But when I became pregnant again, the joy turned to heartbreak. On January 9, 2003—my husband’s birthday—we learned during a routine ultrasound that our son, Rueben, was gone. God met us in that devastation. That season led me to give my life to Christ.
Soon after, my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She battled for ten years. Near the end, my father was also diagnosed—with lung cancer. They passed within two months of each other.
My brothers and I tried to carry on, but a year later, my youngest brother Michael, suffering from TBI, addiction, and mental illness, died by suicide. I shut down. My husband encouraged me to seek grief counseling, and slowly, I started to heal. God stayed with me through it all.
During COVID, we lost my father-in-law—one of the godliest men I’ve known. He passed on January 9, Rueben’s day.
Then, in 2024, I received news that my older brother Scott had also died by suicide. At the time, First Hour Grief Response was serving the nonprofit where I worked. I like to say that Lisa “scooped me up” and gave me the tools to process what was happening.
Later that year, I went to a luncheon that FHGR sponsored where Lisa announced her Director of Operations was stepping down. I prayed for God’s will and submitted a resume. I am excited and blessed to part of this amazing organization and the work they do daily to be a lifeline, bring hope, community and love to those who come in broken by loss.
Brittany Pitteard
Executive Assistant
The loss of my great-grandmother when I was 12 years old was a defining moment in my life. She was a cornerstone in my upbringing, and her passing deeply affected me, though I didn’t fully process my emotions at the time. I remember not crying at her funeral and suppressing my feelings as a teenager, avoiding the pain entirely. It wasn’t until 15 years later that I found myself unexpectedly overcome with emotion whenever I thought of her. I would cry uncontrollably and felt confused, believing I should have been “over it” by then.
This year brought another profound loss when my grandmother and grandfather passed away just two weeks apart. Their deaths were devastating, as they had both been central figures in my life. Initially, I didn’t cry when I heard the news, but in the days that followed, sudden waves of overwhelming grief would hit me, leading me to retreat to private spaces to cry.
Over time, I’ve learned that grief is deeply personal and doesn’t follow a set timeline. For me, processing loss often takes time and comes in waves. With the passing of my grandparents, I leaned heavily on my faith, finding strength in knowing that I will see them again one day.
One scripture that provided immense comfort during this season of loss is James 1:2: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” This verse reminds me that no matter how difficult the trial, I can persevere because Jesus walks with me every step of the way, transforming even the pain of grief into something meaningful.
Michelle Stotts
Development Assistant /
Grief Mentor
My grief journey began in November of 2019 when my friend tragically took their own life. The shock of that loss shook me to my core, leaving a deep scar that I struggled to understand. Then, in 2023, I faced another heart-wrenching loss when my mother passed away due to a traumatic brain injury. These two sudden and unexpected events taught me that grief has always been a part of my life, woven into the very fabric of the human experience. With grief now a constant presence, I find myself contemplating how I can harness its power to propel me toward health and wellness.
To navigate this journey, I sought help and support from those around me. I spoke openly and honestly about my losses and the profound impact they had on me. Sharing my pain allowed me to begin healing, even when the process felt overwhelming.
Several tools and resources have been instrumental in my healing. God’s word has been a source of comfort and guidance. The support from First Hour Grief Response, specialized loss groups, and counseling has provided me with a safe space to explore my emotions. EMDR therapy has helped me process the trauma, while a book called Zachariah’s Story offered insights that resonated deeply with my experience. Above all, the trustworthy friends who have sat with me in the depths of my grief have been a lifeline, offering understanding and compassion when I needed it most.
One quote that has profoundly impacted my journey is, “Let your pain be your teacher, not your master,” by Sandy Gross. It reminds me that while grief is a powerful force, it does not have to control me. Instead, I can learn from it and use it to grow stronger.
Kimberly Cassady
Training Director /
Grief Mentor
My grief journey began in 2020 when my 19-year-old daughter was killed in an act of intimate partner violence. Shortly after the sudden and devastating loss of my daughter, my father was diagnosed with lung cancer and passed away after contracting COVID.
These profound losses in my life, compounded with other instances of ambiguous loss in my life, left me emotionally overwhelmed. Recognizing I needed support and coping strategies, I sought help for my grief and healing. I immersed myself in reading, prayer, and community connections. I learned that grief and joy could coexist through an online grief program I participated in for many months.
Over time I was able to experience the healing and growth possible after loss using the information and strategies I learned, while also leaning heavily on my faith.
Having felt the pain of walking this road alone during an unprecedented time in our history of isolation due to COVID, I committed myself to sharing what I had learned with others. I remind myself that grief is the natural response to having lost someone we love, and it’s not something we are trying to cure. We have to find a way to let it unfold and have presence in our lives, while also keeping hope that we can continue living in some meaningful capacity.
I choose to live by and count on God’s promises to sustain me. We are not meant to grieve alone; we need each other more than ever during times of loss. I feel grateful and humbled to be able to use my pain and experience to support and walk with others on their grief journeys.
Ericka Mingus
HopeWave Program Director
My world shattered on Saturday night, November 19, 2022, when I got a call that changed everything: someone believed my son had been shot. In that instant, time stopped. Life as I knew it ended, replaced with a long, painful journey through grief—layered with emotions, choices, and battles I’d face daily.
In the wreckage, I found a will to survive for my other two children. Just nine months earlier, I had divorced their father. They had already endured so much; I couldn’t abandon them now. Despite overwhelming sorrow, I resolved to fight. My faith in God became my anchor.
The week after my son’s death, I joined a grief group and leaned on the church for strength. I surrounded myself with people, went back to work almost immediately, fearing that stopping might undo me. Nights were filled with grief books, days with therapy, and medication carried me when nothing else could.
My children’s well-being became my focus. I met other grieving mothers for coffee, sought comfort in shared stories, and attended meetings on gun violence. I journaled, exercised, and tried to quiet the turmoil inside. Sometimes isolation was my refuge, sometimes distraction. And through it all, I allowed myself to be loved and cared for by someone special. Community support and time with my son’s friends offered rare moments of connection.
Every few months, I carved out escapes to rest and recharge. I learned to say no to what didn’t serve my healing, yes to what gave me strength.
My faith is what carries me through this unending journey of grief. I have to believe that one day, I will be reunited with my son.
Lindsay Merrifield
Infant & Pregnancy Loss
Program Facilitator
My grief journey began on January 15th, 2019, a day forever etched in my memory. It was the day our beautiful son, Bryant, took his last breath at just 36 hours old. Bryant passed away due to severe complications from scoliosis. We had learned about these complications during our 20-week anatomy scan, but we never anticipated that we would leave the hospital without him in our arms.
Navigating this journey has been a gradual process, and to be transparent, I am unsure if I will ever truly be “through” it. Instead, I am learning to walk alongside my grief rather than letting it control me. I find solace in honoring Bryant and creating a legacy for him—one he was unable to build himself. I say his name often and strive to create change so that others may not have to endure what my family and I experienced. In doing so, I find a measure of comfort.
One of the greatest sources of support for me has been the group offered at First Hour. Initially, I joined as a participant, and now I have taken on the role of facilitator. This group has provided me with love and comfort, helping me feel less alone and isolated in my grief. It is a place where people understand my emotions and my journey, and they walk alongside me.
A quote that deeply resonates with me and my journey is: “I’ll be your legacy. I’ll be your voice. You live on in me. So I’ve made the choice. To honor your life by living again. I love you. I miss you. I will see you again.” – Unknown.
Deb Toussaint
Grief Mentor
When my grandfather passed away, it was a devastating blow to our family. My siblings and I affectionately called him “Dad” because our birth father had been separated from our mother for many years. His death was sudden and tragic; he was repairing a water heater at home when he fell and suffered a fatal brain injury.
During this time of loss, being around family provided a source of comfort, especially spending time with my grandmother. She often reminisced about the memories she shared with him throughout their 58 years of marriage, which brought a bittersweet solace to our grieving hearts.
I tend to internalize my grief when I’m around others, finding it challenging to express my sorrow outwardly. Instead, I seek solace in quiet moments, offering my thoughts and prayers directly to God. One particular Bible verse has been a source of strength for me during this difficult period. Joshua 1:9 (KJV) reads: “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.” This verse continually reassures me of God’s presence and support, even in the darkest of times.
Marianna Boyd
Grief Mentor
My journey with grief began on December 29, 2011, with the loss of my mother. Though I had always been a deeply empathic person, understanding others’ pain, it was this moment that truly initiated my personal experience with grief. The loss of my mother was profound, stripping away the joy of the holidays and leaving me without a home base. Navigating marriage and raising a child without her presence added to the complexity of my sorrow.
Years of infertility also marked my path, introducing another layer of grief. Despite this, I found joy in the gift of my son, holding onto the happiness he brought while grappling with the pain of infertility.
Support from friends and family was crucial, but it was the guidance of a counselor that made a significant difference. Talking through my grief with a compassionate professional allowed me to process my emotions and find a path forward. I was fortunate to find a great counselor who truly helped me.
Several tools and resources aided me along the way. Books provided comfort, conversations with others offered solace, and honoring my mother on special occasions helped keep her memory alive. Allowing myself to feel sadness when it came, looking at old pictures, and cherishing the good memories all played a part in my healing process. While the loss will always be a part of me, time has helped ease the pain.
Two quotes have resonated deeply with me during this journey: “He has made everything beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11), and “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” These words have provided comfort and guidance, helping me navigate the complexities of grief.
Roberta Ethington
Grief Mentor
My journey through grief began when I was just 14 years old. It started with the sudden loss of my mother to cancer when she was only 40. This tragedy forced me to leave behind my family and friends from my mom’s side and relocate across the country to the bustling city of Louisville, Kentucky, to live with my dad and stepmother. I had just started high school and felt utterly alone, with no support system. Talking about my mother and her death was forbidden, so I bottled up all my feelings.
Throughout my life, I have lost friends and family members, but the next significant blow came in 2015 when I found my father dead at his front door. He had suffered a sudden heart attack, and even though there was nothing I could have done to save him, I was overwhelmed with guilt for not being there sooner, for not being able to help.
Finding solace, I turned to my church and connected with others who had similar experiences. This support system has been instrumental in my grief journey. Though the road becomes easier to walk, the thoughts of my parents and my relationships with them remain just as poignant. There’s always a part of me that feels incomplete. However, talking about my grief with others and finding ways to honor my parents in positive ways helps transform my memories from painful to joyful.
Currently, I find comfort in reading books on self-healing and books about heaven, which help me maintain my faith that I will see my parents again someday. Through this journey, I’ve come to understand that the only constant in life is change. One of life’s hardest lessons is learning to let go—whether it’s guilt, anger, love, or loss. Change is never easy; we struggle to hold on, and we struggle to let go.
Karen O'Hara
Grief Mentor
My grief journey officially began on February 2, 2021, when I received the devastating news that my daughter Hannah had passed away. The shock and pain of that moment marked the beginning of a path I never expected to walk.
To navigate the overwhelming grief, I turned to one-on-one counseling and found solace in group sharing. I embraced the support of my friends and made new connections with those who had been on this journey for some time. I immersed myself in grief-related activities, including yoga, art, and reading, seeking anything that could offer some comfort or understanding.
The tools that have helped me along the way include journaling, which allowed me to process my emotions, and reading, which offered insights and perspectives on grief. Sharing my experiences with others and developing friendships with people who could truly relate to my pain has been invaluable.
A quote that has provided strength and comfort during this time is, “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.” This quote, which my grandmother often used throughout my formative years, has always resonated with me, and its significance has only deepened during this difficult period.
Amy Bowman
Grief Mentor
I’ve experienced many losses in my life, beginning at the age of 14 when my friend suddenly became sick with cardiomyopathy and in need of a heart transplant. He died a few short months later.
My mom was also battling breast cancer at this time and she passed away when I was 16 years old. Being a motherless daughter as a teenager was very difficult and I thought at the time was the worst loss I would ever experience.
Then at the age of 31, my dad died in an accidental drowning at our beloved lake home that we had been going to every summer of my life. I was 9 months pregnant with my third son, who was born the following day.
Most recently, my brother died due to addiction and alcoholism.
Through all of my losses I have learned to keep my faith strong , surround myself with the right people, and acknowledge/recognize the grief waves as they show up in my life (sometimes daily).
Angela L.Brockmann
Grief Mentor
My journey with grief actually began in the 1970s as a Licensed Mental Health Counselor at the Menninger Foundation in Topeka, Kansas. Despite that training, the first significant loss came when my grandmother passed away at 101. Her absence left a profound void, and I needed to rely on all the skills I developed in Topeka to heal.
Later, we lost our son, Christopher as a result of medical malpractice. As a military family, we found comfort in bonds with others who had experienced similar losses. These connections taught me resilience and how to move forward.
The most devastating loss, however, was the passing of my spouse, which shattered my world. I slowly rebuilt my life through faith and reflection, finding unexpected strength and purpose.
I have since lost both my parents and my youngest brother, each loss reinforcing that life’s timing is beyond our control.
Throughout these trials, my faith has been my compass. I believe God calls us to care for the earth and love one another. Grief, for all its pain, has taught me to live with intention and to love more deeply.
Tanya Scott
Grief Mentor
In 1986, my first baby girl was born. Sixteen days later, she passed in my arms. I wasn’t allowed to hold her until her final hours. My family silenced my grief, leaving me to carry it alone.
In 1989, I miscarried at five and a half months. I buried myself in books, searching for meaning in senseless loss. Questions consumed me. In time, I was blessed with four healthy children.
Then in 2021, I lost another daughter—this time to drug abuse. Numb and shattered, I again asked, “What do I do with this?”
A close friend took me to a grief meeting that changed everything. With two devastating losses already behind me, I was sinking fast. But in that room, surrounded by people who understood, I found a lifeline. Through meetings and connection, I began to rebuild—not my old life, but a different one. The old me was gone.
Grief keeps you in the dark. My daughter, Lauren, was gone. I kept asking, “Why this life? Why me?”
Now, four years later, I’ve found peace and hope. Faith helps me accept the questions I’ll never answer. I’ve learned how vital it is to have someone to talk to, someone to help carry the unbearable weight. That kind of support could have spared me years of silent anguish.
My journey has become a calling: to help others through the worst times of their lives. Grief is a new puzzle—you’ll never see the old picture again. But with help, you can start piecing together something new. I’m here to help you find that starting place.
Robin Bark
Grief Mentor
The tragic death of my 19-year-old cousin in 1991 was my first encounter with profound grief. His motorcycle accident, caused by a deer, happened just a half-mile from my home. Since that day, I’ve endured several significant losses, including my father-in-law in 2003, my mother in 2011, and, most heartbreakingly, my 20-year-old son, Brandon, who died in a car accident in 2016.
After my mother’s passing, I sought counseling through a local church in Tipp City, Ohio. The support I received brought me comfort, but losing Brandon was a completely different kind of pain. I struggled to find people who understood the sudden loss of a child or the unique grief of a parent. When my family relocated to Louisville in 2017, I found the support I needed through Camberwell Sanctuary, whose guidance was instrumental in helping me navigate my grief.
Brandon’s death shook my faith to its core. While I never doubted where he was, I wrestled with anger and struggled to feel connected to God. Over time, I’ve found strength through my faith and the love of my husband and son, Derrick, which has helped carry me through the darkest moments.
A scripture that sustains me is Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.” This verse reminds me that God’s strength is sufficient, even in my deepest grief.
Sharon Neville
Grief Mentor
My journey with grief has taken many shapes. For years, I didn’t even recognize it as grief. As a young woman, I mistook the pain of divorce for anger. Only later did I allow myself to see the loss for what it was—the grief of a 20-something girl whose dreams had been broken.
In my early 30s, I found faith in Christ. As that relationship deepened, I began to see loss differently. When my mother died in 2012, after years of suffering, I felt both relief for her and emptiness for myself. We had not shared a tender bond, though I had hoped for one. Years later, grief counseling helped me accept that she and I had both done the best we could. My loss was real, even if it didn’t look like a Hallmark story.
In 1988, I remarried, and my husband and I became foster and adoptive parents to eight children over six years. Four stayed, four reunified with their families. While those reunions were happy, they weren’t easy on our hearts. One child left with only four hours’ notice, and the shock was crushing. We didn’t know to call it grief at the time, only unfairness. With prayer, guidance, and the support of friends, we healed.
Then in 2016, the unimaginable happened: my husband of 28 years died suddenly. We had plans, dreams of growing old together. In the moment I realized he was gone, I bowed my head and prayed, “Please show me how to see this.” The shock shook me to my core, and it took three years to glimpse a purposeful future again.
When my dad passed in 2018, peacefully in his sleep, grief came differently—expected, yet still painful.
I can say that I have struggled, and often I have had peace. But I have not suffered hopelessness, I believe, because Christ has been my hope.
Elaine Smith
Grief Mentor
My grief journey began July 16, 2023, with a devasting phone call, that my daughter, and first born, Nicolle, had suddenly passed away. The shock and pain of that moment left me not only devastated but unimaginably broken. I knew within 2 weeks, I needed help. I turned to several grief support groups, to include a loss of child grief support group at a local church, where I began to attend weekly. Through their compassion, support and teachings of ways to manage grief, I went from a black hole of an existence with endless crying and despair, to functional again.
The journey of grief is profound but talking with people that have been through the same loss, gave me comfort. There was someone that truly understood what I was going through, how I was feeling, and knew my thoughts and fears. The grief support groups were the only place I felt safe for a very long time. I threw myself into every grief activity, books and podcasts. Slowly, my journey became more manageable. I had hope. I could breathe. I know, without a doubt, had it not been for the support and mentoring, I would not have made it to the second year. I so desperately want to pass this hope on to anyone that is on this journey and walking with grief. There is help and hope. You do not have to walk this journey alone.
Kevin Dockery
Grief Mentor
Grief has been part of my life for a long time. It started in my early twenties, when I began losing people close to me—grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Each loss left its mark, but I kept going, trying to process things in my own way.
Then in February 2019, everything changed. My 19-year-old niece passed away from cancer. Her death hit me hard. She was so young, and it felt unfair. Just a few months later, we learned my brother had cancer too. We held onto hope, but in 2021, he passed away as well.
And then, last year on February 29th, 2024, I lost my dad. He was my hero—the person I looked up to most. Losing him felt like the ground had shifted beneath me.
Through all of this, I tried to take care of myself and manage my emotions alone. I didn’t want to burden anyone. But my wife and kids encouraged me to talk to someone, and I realized I couldn’t carry all of it by myself. Opening up helped me start to heal.
Now, I try to face each day with the understanding that life is fragile and precious. I lean on my faith, and I lean on the people around me. Grief doesn’t go away, but I’ve learned that I don’t have to go through it alone.
Don Bark
Grief Mentor
The human experience consists of a journey of joy, happiness, sorrow, and grief. Each of us have a unique and individual journey encompassing all of those emotions at various times/ways that make us special in so many ways.
Shortly after high school, I met my first mentor who put me on a journey of the study of positive attitude and how changing one’s thinking can effect outcomes forever. These concepts would be put to the test! My grief history, as with many, includes loss of family members, friends, acquaintances, and co-workers; over the years, which has taught me coping skills during difficult, emotional times.
My profound grief journey began in 2016 when we lost our 20-year-old son in a traffic accident. Our world came crashing down in an instant and I was on a new journey that I didn’t want to be walking. This road has been very painful, but God has given me the strength/courage to continue his work on this earth. Exposing me to so many wonderful people. God has gifted me the opportunity to serve others in their time of grief through an amazing organization; First Hour Grief Response.
Scriptures that have helped me: Psalm 23; The Lord is my Shepherd; Matthew 5:4; Blessed are Those Who Mourn – so many more of God’s words have offered me comfort.
May you find peace! God Bless!