I don’t claim to be an expert but I have sat with many families over the years and one of the biggest things families have taught me is that everyone grieves differently.
One person might cry openly, while another becomes quiet. Someone may want to talk about the person who has died all the time, while someone else finds saying their name too painful. Another might throw themselves into practical things because keeping busy feels easier than sitting with the sadness.
None of these mean someone cared more or less. There is no right way to grieve.
I have also seen how remembering someone together can be incredibly powerful. Being together and sharing stories bring different pieces of a person back into the room.
And grief isn't always obvious. Sometimes it’s the empty chair at the table, a birthday that feels different, a song on the radio or a familiar smell that catches you completely off guard.
It doesn’t follow a timetable either. Someone can seem to be doing well and then suddenly find themselves overwhelmed. Years later, something unexpected can bring the grief rushing back. I have learnt that this isn’t going backwards. Grief changes shape.
Families have also taught me that loss can change relationships. People can have very different memories of the same person and very different ways of coping with their death. Even when we lose the same person, we don't necessarily experience the same loss. Our relationships with them were different.
I see this with children too. They can move from tears to play and back again in a matter of minutes. They might ask blunt or unexpected questions, then go off and do something completely ordinary. That doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten. It’s simply how children can move through grief.
Perhaps the greatest thing families have taught me is that grief and love are deeply connected. The pain of losing someone is often a reflection of the love that was there before them.
Over time, families find ways to carry both. They laugh at an old story and cry afterwards. They make someone's favourite meal. They keep a tradition going. They tell a child about someone they never had the chance to meet. It is finding a way to carry their memory while continuing to live.
Families have taught me that remembering is an act of love. And perhaps loss also reminds us to pay attention to the people who are still here, to make the phone call, share the meal, take the photograph and always say I love you.
And grief, in many ways, is simply one of the ways love continues.
