Grief: A Lifelong Journey

18 November 2024

Main image by K Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

I have been invited to write a short piece on Grief. Short? Seriously?? I can’t do “Short” when it comes to this topic. The piece I submit is likely to get well amputated, so here I am placing, with love and tenderness, my full piece as it is today – 18th November 2024.

It could be longer. Much longer. It could be more comprehensive. It could contain much more wisdom from other people. But this is what I feel is most important for someone new into fresh Grief to know, or someone accompanying a Griefling to understand.

Basic essentials, if you like.
Let me know what you think. Particularly if you’re a Griefling.

Grief: A Lifelong Journey Through Brokenness and Becoming Someone Different

Grief—why does it feel like my life has broken into a million pieces?
Because it has.

Loss, especially a close-in loss, doesn’t just break your heart; it can shatter your identity. Who are you without this person, their love, this connection? Grief isn’t just about missing someone. It’s about the disorienting, gut-wrenching work of figuring out who you are now, as you live in the wreckage of what was.

Why does Grief feel so isolating?
Because no one else has lived your loss. Every relationship is unique, and so every Grief feels unique.

David Kessler asks, “What is the worst loss? Your loss.” Grief defies hierarchies. Comparing losses—parent versus partner, partner versus child, sibling versus friend, grandparent versus one’s beloved dog or cat—misses the point entirely. Such comparisons only invite judgement, leaving necessary compassion absent. What matters is the depth of your attachment and the bond that has now changed irrevocably. Grief is deeply personal, and its pain defies categorisation.

And yet, while Grief feels deeply isolating, it is also one of life’s great levellers. Like Death, Grief unites us all. We feel alone, and we are alone in our own Grief, but if we live long enough, we will all come to know it. Grief connects us in our shared humanity, even when it feels like no one else could possibly understand or imagine our pain.

Will things get better over time?
That depends.

Time doesn’t heal Grief. Perhaps nothing truly “heals” Grief. But superb support can help. You will probably never “get over it,” but as Dr. Tonkin describes, new interests, connections, and relationships can grow around your Grief. The hole in your heart doesn’t shrink—it stays. But with time, care, and witnessing, your life can expand to hold the pain more gently.

What should I say to someone who’s grieving?
Start by saying less.

Statements like, “They’re always with you,” or “It’ll get better with time,” often land as hollow platitudes. These sentiments might eventually hold some truth for the griever—but only when they get there themselves. Instead, say:

• “I am so very sorry. I cannot take away your pain, but I can be alongside you in it.”
• “I’m here for you.”

Ask about the person who has died. Say their name. Enquire, “Where is (your person) in your life these days?” This can feel enormously validating. You won’t “remind” the griever of their loss—they are likely to be thinking about it constantly. Grief isn’t a problem to fix; it’s an experience to accompany. Lead with your heart and your ears, not your words.

What is Grief, anyway?
Grief is loving someone (or something) who has died. It’s the human response to the rupture of an attachment bond. It’s not a sign of weakness or failure but of healthy humanity. Megan Devine writes, “Some things in life cannot be fixed; they can only be carried.” Grief is one of them.

Grief is not just emotional—it’s physical, biological, mental, social, and spiritual. Neuroscience reveals that Grief rewires the brain, leaving us struggling with focus and attention, memory, and even physical coordination. The body carries Grief too: fatigue, restlessness, and physical pain can all be part of the process. Grief reshapes our social connections, leaving us feeling isolated when we most need support, and it can profoundly shift our spiritual landscapes. Grief is messy, nonlinear, and highly individual. It does not adapt well to fast-paced, capitalist societies. It breaks us open and demands to be tended to.

In time, however, Grief invites us to love more fiercely, live more intentionally, and honour the bonds that shaped us, even as they change. Become curious about your Grief. Explore it, sit with it, befriend it. Grief is a lifelong companion to love and loss, and as you walk this path, nourish yourself richly in every way possible.

Grief is the natural and involuntary response to loss. It is part of being human.

Image by Vidar Nordli Mathisen on Unsplash