You Lost Someone…

If you’re here because you lost someone you loved, I’m so sorry.

There is no “right” way to be doing this.

Grief does not move in a straight line. It comes in waves, disappears for a while, then knocks you sideways on an ordinary Tuesday for no apparent reason.

There are losses that divide your life into two parts.

Before they were here.

And after they weren’t.

Maybe you lost a spouse.

A parent.

A child.

A sibling.

A friend.

Someone who felt like family.

Maybe it happened recently.

Maybe it happened years ago and something completely ordinary still catches you off guard.

A song.

A smell.

A holiday.

A place you haven’t been in years.

Someone saying their name.

Grief is not just missing someone.

It is learning how to live in a world that kept going after someone important to you was gone.

That takes time.

Probably more time than other people expect.

There Is No Correct Way to Do This

You may cry constantly.

You may barely cry at all.

You may feel devastated.

Angry.

Numb.

Relieved.

Guilty.

Peaceful.

Completely exhausted.

Sometimes all in the same day.

You may desperately want to talk about the person.

Then the next day you may want everyone to stop asking how you are doing.

You might laugh at something and immediately feel guilty for laughing.

You might have a perfectly decent afternoon and then get knocked sideways because you saw their favorite cereal in the grocery store.

None of that means you are doing grief wrong.

Grief does not move neatly through stages and then disappear.

It circles back.

It surprises you.

It changes shape.

A hard day does not mean you have gone backward.

It means something still hurts.

You Do Not Have to “Move On”

I have never loved that phrase.

Move on to where?

The person existed.

You loved them.

They mattered.

You do not need to erase that relationship in order to keep living.

Maybe the goal is not moving on.

Maybe it is learning to carry the person differently.

That might mean:

• keeping photographs nearby
• cooking something they loved
• telling stories about them
• visiting a place that mattered
• keeping a tradition
• listening to their music
• celebrating their birthday
• carrying something that belonged to them
• supporting something they cared about

You do not have to stop remembering in order to heal.

Remembering may be part of how you heal.

Unfortunately, Grief Comes With Paperwork

This is one of the crueler parts.

You can be shattered emotionally and still have bills.

Phone calls.

Forms.

Appointments.

Funeral arrangements.

Insurance.

Legal questions.

Household responsibilities.

People asking you for decisions when you can barely decide what to eat.

If everything feels impossible, divide it up.

What actually has to happen now?

Things with deadlines.

Bills that cannot wait.

Medication.

Housing.

Funeral or memorial arrangements.

Legal documents.

Immediate care responsibilities.

What can wait?

Clothes.

Belongings.

Cleaning out rooms.

Major decisions about the house.

Big life changes.

There is no prize for clearing out someone’s closet three days after they die.

What can somebody else do?

A lot more than you may think.

When someone says:

“Let me know if you need anything.”

Give them something.

“Can you bring dinner Thursday?”

“Can you make these two phone calls?”

“Will you sit with me while I go through this paperwork?”

“Can you tell everyone I’m not answering messages today?”

People often genuinely want to help.

They just do not know what to do.

Your Body Grieves Too

Grief can mess with your sleep.

Your appetite.

Your concentration.

Your energy.

Your memory.

You may walk into a room and forget why you are there.

You may reread the same paragraph five times.

You may sleep twelve hours and still feel exhausted.

Try to lower the bar for a while.

Drink some water.

Eat something.

Take your medication as prescribed.

Go outside if you can.

Keep medical appointments that matter.

Move your body gently if that feels okay.

Rest.

You do not have to turn grief into a wellness program.

Basic care is enough.

Treat yourself like someone who has been through something serious.

Because you have.

The Quiet Can Be Brutal

Sometimes it is not the big moments that hurt the most.

It is dinner.

The empty chair.

Not hearing the garage door.

Not getting the text.

Not having somebody to tell the completely unimportant thing that happened at the grocery store.

The ordinary companionship disappears.

That can make evenings and weekends especially hard.

You do not have to fill every empty space.

But you can make some of it less lonely.

Call someone.

Have the television on.

Listen to an audiobook.

Sit somewhere people are around.

Go to church.

Meet somebody for coffee.

Join a grief group.

Ask someone to stay for dinner.

Sometimes simply being around another human being helps, even when you do not feel like talking.

Other People May Be Weird About Your Grief

People generally mean well.

They also say spectacularly unhelpful things.

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“They’re in a better place.”

“At least they lived a long life.”

“You have to be strong.”

“You need to move forward.”

You are allowed to dislike all of that.

Some friends may disappear because they do not know what to say.

Others may expect you to be “better” long before you are.

Try to tell the people you trust what you actually need.

“I want to talk about them.”

“I really do not want advice today.”

“I need some company.”

“I’m having a rough day. Can you call me tonight?”

People cannot always guess.

Give the good ones a chance to show up.

The Firsts Can Hurt

The first birthday.

First Christmas.

First Mother’s Day.

First anniversary.

First family wedding.

First vacation.

First time something happens and your immediate instinct is to call them.

Some of these days may be harder than you expect.

Some may be easier.

You do not owe anyone a traditional celebration.

Change the plans.

Leave early.

Stay home.

Invite someone over.

Go somewhere completely different.

Honor the person.

Do not honor the person.

Do whatever makes the day survivable.

There is no requirement to turn a painful anniversary into a meaningful Instagram moment.

Getting through it counts.

Complicated Relationships Can Create Complicated Grief

Not every person we lose had an uncomplicated relationship with us.

Maybe you loved them and were angry with them.

Maybe they hurt you.

Maybe there were things left unsaid.

Maybe you were estranged.

Maybe their death ended any possibility of reconciliation.

That grief can be especially confusing.

You may be grieving the person.

Or the relationship you wished you had.

Or the apology that will never come.

Or the chance to say something you thought you still had time to say.

You do not have to force the story into something prettier than it was.

Love and anger can exist together.

Relief and grief can exist together.

You are allowed to mourn an imperfect relationship.

You Are Allowed to Live Again

This can feel surprisingly difficult.

The first time you laugh.

The first time you enjoy yourself.

The first trip.

The first good day you have without thinking about the person every five minutes.

Sometimes guilt sneaks in.

How can I be enjoying myself when they are gone?

Because you are still here.

Living does not betray the person you lost.

Laughing does not mean you forgot.

Falling in love again does not erase a spouse.

Enjoying a holiday does not mean the old holidays stopped mattering.

Your life continuing is not evidence that their life mattered less.

When Grief Feels Too Heavy to Carry Alone

There is no timetable for grief.

But sometimes grief becomes so heavy that you need more support.

That may be especially true after a sudden or traumatic death, suicide, overdose, the death of a child, or a loss tangled up with guilt, anger, or unresolved trauma.

You may want to talk with:

• a grief counselor
• a therapist
• a hospice bereavement program
• a grief support group
• a doctor
• someone in your faith community
• someone who has lived through a similar loss

And if you are thinking about hurting yourself or do not feel able to keep yourself safe, call or text 988 in the United States for immediate crisis support.

You do not have to prove how much you loved someone by suffering alone.

You Do Not Have to Leave Them Behind

You may always miss this person.

I think that matters.

The goal is not to reach some magical day when their absence means nothing.

Maybe, over time, the grief simply stops taking up every inch of the room.

There is space for other things again.

A laugh.

A friend.

A trip.

A new routine.

A quiet morning that does not hurt quite as much.

The love can stay.

The memories can stay.

And your life can keep growing around the loss.

For now, take today as it comes.

Eat something.

Rest.

Call someone if you need to.

Cry if you need to.

Say their name if you want to.

You are not leaving them behind by continuing to live.

You are learning how to carry them with you.