Grief, Healing and Hope: The Emotional Heart of Holly & Oak

Grief features prominently in Holly & Oak, especially in Seasons One and Two. In fact, it could almost be considered a character in its own right. From Chapter One, we see Kate grieving Alex, and Eddie mourning Rowan.

For me, the roots of this grief were personal. About six months before I started writing the series, I lost my grandfather to cancer. Within a matter of weeks, I was made redundant from my job, and the sale of my first home fell through. It felt like the life I’d been building for myself was falling apart at the seams.

I struggled to process everything. The grief was layered — not just the loss of someone I loved, but the unravelling of a future I had planned.

Kate’s circumstances are different, but writing her journey became cathartic. Her story gave shape to emotions I couldn’t quite name. Through her, I could explore how grief distorts the world, how it reshapes you, and how (eventually) you start to feel like yourself again, even if you’re forever changed.

Grief as a Companion

Grief in Holly & Oak doesn’t follow a neat, three-act structure. It’s not something Kate or Eddie "get over." It lingers, flares up, fades, then returns when they least expect it.

There are quiet, heartbreaking moments between Kate and Ainsley in Season One that show this. So many times that Kate starts to lean into her budding feelings, only to pull away when she remembers her wife.

Season Two leans into that unpredictability. The scenes surrounding Agatha’s death and funeral in Episode Four were the first scenes I wrote for Season Two. I was working on them around the anniversary of my grandfather’s death, and drew directly from that experience — down to the giant chessboard at the funeral. Around the same time, I lost two other people in my life, which amplified what I was feeling.

Because the grief I was experiencing felt suffocating. But as I wrote, something shifted. Sharing it with Kate, Eddie, and Ainsley made it more bearable. As it became easier for them, it slowly became easier for me.

(Not that Agatha’s death was written to serve my emotional process — I always knew she was doomed. That happened pretty much two minutes after she evolved from “nameless real estate agent” to Ainsley’s friend and confidant. Sorry, not sorry.)

Finding the Light

But grief isn’t the only thread running through Holly & Oak. Alongside the sorrow, there’s healing. There’s hope. There’s change.

There are tiny glimmers of light in the darkness — the shared meals Kate, Erina, Ainsley and Eddie have around Thanksgiving, the friendships they began to forge, the laughter they share no matter how broken the world feels. These moments don’t erase the grief, but they make it bearable.

There’s a particular moment between Kate and Jada that captures this:

“I think this year was easier than last year.” Kate smiled slightly. “And I do agree with Erin that I want it to start becoming a day where we remember the times we shared, and not that she isn’t here.”

“Every year it will get easier,” said Jada.

“What if I don’t want it to be easier?”

Jada frowned. “Why?”

“Doesn’t that mean that it didn’t mean much, if I can just get over it?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Jada. “I think the grief you feel remains the same, and it will always be there, but the space around it grows. You find a way to fill that new space with new memories, a new life, and new love. It doesn’t minimize what you had. It just enables you to have both … does that make sense?”

That line sums up what many of the characters experience. Grief and loss are a part of life — and when you're in it, it feels endless. But it won’t always feel that way.

Kate finds a new home, a chosen family, and a second chance at love.

Eddie finds peace, a partner, and space to be vulnerable.

Ainsley finds connection in places she never expected.

For each of them, healing didn’t come all at once. It arrived in quiet moments — often around a table at the Jade and Lace bar. A place where meals were shared, secrets spilled, and slowly, new bonds were formed. That table became a kind of symbol to me. Grief isolates us, but healing often happens in the presence of others.

If You’re Somewhere in the Middle...

If you’ve ever grieved someone or something — a person, a job, a life you thought you'd have — I hope Holly & Oak reminds you that while grief leaves its mark, so does healing. And it's okay if you’re still somewhere in the messy middle.

You’re not alone. And you don’t have to heal all at once.