Grief is deeply personal. But there’s one truth almost everyone who has been through it will recognise: it can feel profoundly lonely.
Over my lifetime, I’ve lost both of my parents and two of my brothers. Those losses shaped me in ways I still can’t always put into words. What I do remember vividly are the people who showed up for me, sometimes quietly, sometimes imperfectly, but always with love. Their presence mattered more than they knew.
If you’re reading this because someone you care about is grieving, thank you. Even your willingness to wonder how to help is already a gesture of care. There’s no perfect script, but here are some ways, drawn from my own experience, that can make a real difference.
Practical Help (Ask First)
When someone is grieving, even the smallest tasks can feel overwhelming. But tread gently, some things are too tender to touch.
- Offer to tidy the house, but with care. Sweeping a floor or folding laundry can bring peace, but always ask first. Everyday objects can feel like sacred reminders.
- Laundry, carefully. Clothes hold scent, memory, presence. Some may never be ready to be washed. Always check before you decide to wash.
- Keep living things alive. Water the plants, tend the garden. Quiet acts of care help keep a sense of continuity.
Everyday Care (Often You Can Just Do)
Some gestures don’t need permission. They simply ease the weight of daily life.
- Bring comfort. Soft socks, tea, a candle, a journal. Thoughtful care packages offer warmth.
- Restock the basics. Eggs, milk, fruit, coffee. These small acts make the day a little easier.
- Cook or freeze meals. Appetite falters with grief. Ready meals bring not just nutrition, but nourishment in a deeper sense.
- Offer company. Drive them to appointments. Sit with them in waiting rooms. Invite them for coffee. Sometimes, just not being alone is everything.
- Watch the kids, pets…
- Handle the paperwork. Grief and admin clash painfully. Help with bills, accounts, or forms can lift a mountain off their shoulders.
Emotional Presence (The Heart of It)
This is what lingers long after the casseroles are gone.
- Say their name. Ask about the person who died. Even if they can’t answer, your willingness to remember is a gift. Silence can be far lonelier than awkwardness.
- Keep showing up. Grief doesn’t end after the funeral. The people who kept checking in months later, on birthdays, anniversaries, ordinary days… were lifelines.
The Thread Through It All
Grief doesn’t ask for answers. It asks for presence.
You don’t need the right words. You don’t need to fix what’s broken. What matters is that you show up, gently, honestly, consistently. That’s what holds people together when everything else has fallen apart.
✨ If you’d like more reflections and practical tools on living with loss, you can explore my guided meditations and stories for children
and grief resources :