
It’s so hard to know what to say to someone who is grieving, even months after the loss of their loved one. We want to help, to remove in some way the burden of grief they carry but few words can do that. Here, from my perspective, are some things to say and not to say to someone who is grieving.
Rather than saying “How are you?”, an impossible question to answer when you are grieving and, usually occurring too early in an encounter to generate an authentic response, say, “How are you holding up?”
Don’t prophecy with “It’ll get better” or, worse, “You never forget.” Keep those thoughts to yourself.
Rather than saying, “Call me anytime if you want to talk,” put a note in your calendar and make the call yourself. It’s when I am at my lowest times that I may to talk to someone but those are also the last times when I will pick up a phone.
Don’t make promises to visit, or to call. It’s not everyone who can handle being around someone who is grieving. You don’t know that you will be able to keep that promise.
Instead of asking, “How was your Christmas/Easter/Insert-any-major-event-here?” say, “You got through________. That can’t have been easy.”
Don’t say, ”How did it happen?” Say, “Tell me about it.” This allows them to select the narrative. A little of the burden is lifted with each re-telling of the story.
Say, “Is there anything I can do with you?” Note: not “for you” but with you. Maybe they would appreciate company when going to the bank or to see the lawyer.
Say, “I think of him so often.”
Say, “I can’t imagine what you must be going through…”
Say,“I still can’t believe it!”
Say,“I was remembering the other day how he…”
Say, “I want to propose a toast…” or mention his name during Grace. Trust me; this one means a lot.
Last Friday I was making a purchase at the store of a friend. As I was reaching into my purse for my wallet I said, “I have a harder time on Fridays because it was on a Friday that Alex died.” I felt her hand touch my arm and immediately regretted having said it. She was silent and when I looked up I saw that her eyes were teary. She hadn’t said a word yet I left her store feeling less alone.
What would you add to the suggestions above? What should you say and what shouldn’t you say to someone who is grieving?
photo credit: Nasrulekram






Thank you for sharing this post Lori. I didn't know what to say to you when you you talked about your son last year. I really didn't have the words to express how I felt without it being wrong or the wrong thing to say.
As I had mentioned to you, the news and the post you shared was very sad. I wasn't sure how to even talk to myself about it. :) let alone with you.
This is a very heart-felt and helpful post to those who are not only grieving but their friends and family who support them. I don't think the conversation will ever be easy with those grieving a lost one but these words you shared can surely help get us get started.
I want to add a footnote to this post. Last fall when we went to our summer place I saw firsthand how children know what to say when someone is grieving.
My cousin has twin daughters who would follow around my daughter, who finds them adorable. When they first arrived, they came to our bungalow and said to Natasha, "We heard your brother died." (They had never met him since they weren't born the last time Alex had come with us to the bungalow.) The conversation ensued:
"Yes," said Natasha.
"Are you sad?" one of the girls asked.
"Yes, very sad," said Natasha
One of the girls noticed a framed photo of Alex that I had brought and said "Is that him?"
"Yes it is," said Natasha.
"He looks like you - are you twins!?!"
After that they asked about him and intuitively opened a space for Natasha to talk about her brother. Being close sisters, they again, intuitively, could offer sympathy. When later I asked their mother if they had been coached I was told no, she had just told them that Alex had died.
For the rest of the weekend whenever they could they brought Alex into the conversation. If Natasha talked about school they said, "Did Alex go to school?" for instance. Whatever they talked about, the girls mentioned his name and asked about him, encouraging Natasha to talk about him. I'm not sure but I think the girls were about nine years old.
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@Lori I love the story because it is so natural the fact that it should have been heavy did not even enter the equation
@Lori That is a beautiful story Lori! Thank you for sharing it! We could really learn so much from children...I think it is because they don't have their "filters" in place yet and they truly speak from the heart. As adults, we have become so filtered that it is hard for us to remember how to speak from the best place of all...our hearts.
@SocialMediaDDS Yes Claudia, they were so natural about it but so intuitive. I was sure their mom had coached them in what to say and surprised to learn she hadn't.
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Dear Lori,My heart is with you.I can feel your Angel's presence speaking through your voice. I cannot imagine the pain you've gone through and yet I also feel an aliveness and a flicker of light through your grief and through your beautiful message.
May his breath become your breath and may his radiant spiritual heart, which is still very much present inside you now, continue to gently hold you and guide you forward.
Much love,
-Bern
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@yourgreatlifetv Thank you Bern. Those are beautiful words to say to someone who is grieving. <3
I like what you say about avoiding the impulse to try to "fix the situation," and simply letting the other person know that you are available to listen to them. I think this holds true in other areas of life and not just in talking to grieving people -- I know that I prefer to be listened to rather than "fixed" in most conversations I have.
@acordaamor Hi Chris,
Yes, nobody likes to be fixed and maybe this is even more so when they are grieving. I was quick to let people know (when they were starting to talk about it) that I wasn't interested in reading about the stages of grief; books that would foretell my future on this path. Maybe it would have helped but I didn't want to know what was coming. It was more than enough to deal with the present moment.
So don't try to fix anyone - grieving or not.
Welcome to Life, for instance Chris!
This is such an important post for those of us who want so badly to better know how to reach out to those in pain and don't quite know how. Thank you so much for sharing this part of your life, Lori. We all love you.
@Ken Wert Thanks Ken. I want to know what you say to someone who is grieving. (Have you written a post about it?) Please share your wisdom-infused thoughts on this!
Good morning, Lori, you are such a courageous person (I have said it before) and thank you for sharing your most personal thoughts and hurts.
What jumped out at me in your post was "A little of the burden is lifted with each re-telling of the story" and the tender gesture of your friend touching your arm. I think the common thing those two have is empathy, you will only tell your story to somebody you feel comfortable and safe with, and reaching out with a loving hug is physical bonding and the message is "I feel your sorrow and sadness, let me share it with you".
I remember when my dad died (I was eight years old), I was not allowed to go to the funeral as some authoritarian uncle had decided that I was too young and would not understand it. I could not speak up and felt very bad, guilty and bereft of something very important, to say good bye and be eventually able to let go. The same goes for not speaking about the beloved person, as if this person never existed.
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@Late_Bloomers It's so true Barbara - you zeroed in on something important. When one of my friends came for a visit she said something that indicated she wanted to hear the story, you know, the part I needed to tell. I don't remember exactly what she said (or I would have put it in the post) but it was so perfect and allowed me to share and unburden myself a bit more.
I remember the first time I saw my cousin after her father died. We were at the bungalow and I was cooking chicken on the fire. I was so intent on listening to her tell the story that she had a great need to tell that I burned the chicken. That was when I learned of the importance of telling the story.
What do you say to someone who is grieving Barbara?
@Lori It depends on the person grieving and I follow my gut feelings: when my friend's brother died two years ago, she did not need words, she needed physical contact and we hugged and cried together. I would love to take you to our woods and we could build a huge open fire outside the small cabin, cook something on it. I would listen to your story.
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@Late_Bloomers I would love that too Barbara <3
Thank you for sharing this deeply personal post Lori, and for giving us the tools to approach such a sensitive topic with more grace.
One of my friends @Claire Gillenson created a lovely post on the same topic, and I think you would connect with her message as well:http://clairegillenson.com/ten-ways-to-comfort-someone-in-crisis/
@Sabrina at MyMiBoSo @Claire Gillenson Thanks for the link Sabrina. She covers the crisis angle well. Often, as @Deone Higgs pointed out, people don't come in until the person passes away and so much support is needed when they are sick.
The thing is about knowing what to say is that you don't know what to say - until you do and usually that happens when you've been on the other side of things. And even then, since everyone is different, you may only be offering what you yourself need.
What would you add Sabrina? What do you say?
@Lori I find that I often find myself offering one of two things - a loving space for my friend who is grieving to simply be OR as the entertainer and reminder that the loved ones we've lost would want us to still be able to laugh, act silly, and find those little moments of joy in life, even through the grief.
@Sabrina at MyMiBoSo @Lori I agree, we do never know what is going on with a person's heart. I think that goes for everyone, not just those who are grieving. I also agree with Sabrina that it is important to not forget the joy in all of the moments of life. I would add that grief ebbs and flows through the years. It settles, then it gets dislodged by a memory, an event, over the years, it continues to shift and change. Especially in the early years after the loss.
@Lori @Sabrina at MyMiBoSo @Claire Gillenson @Deone Higgs Hi Lori, thanks for a deeply insightful post. On the note that everyone is different, and perhaps only offering what we ourselves may need, if we take the emphasis off having our needs met (which can range from --it feels good to help someone, we feel needed etc) and focus on the person in pain, someitmes just being a presence, holding, without any words, may be enough.
@ClaireGillenson @Sabrina at MyMiBoSo @Claire Gillenson @Deone Higgs "I would hold a space and listen." after asking if they wanted to talk about how they are feeling today. That's the question. "Are you up for talking today?" And the story evolves because it enlarges to include the horrible healing process and all that goes with it. People tend to believe that since months have passed all is okay. And it is different for everyone, I know. But we never really know what's going on in a person's heart until we ask, do we?
@Lori @Sabrina at MyMiBoSo @Claire Gillenson @Deone Higgs That depends on the relationship I have with the person. It can be a basic "How are you managing "xyz" (kids, work, finances, home etc) ? Based on response, I would see what I can do to help and offer to be of specific service (IE- hard time handling kids and work. my response: I have Wednesday afternoon free, how about I take them out to the park?) or if I am close to them I would ask if she wants to talk about how she is feeling today. (are you up for talking today--because they may not want to re-tell their story again and again) If they did, I would hold a space and listen. Listening means no advice giving, or wanting to fix. I am great with being in the zone of uncomfortable. Because that is what grief is sometimes. Dark, uncomfortable, scary, heavy, until we can move closer to the light.
@ClaireGillenson @Sabrina at MyMiBoSo @Claire Gillenson @Deone Higgs Hi Claire,
I agree, sometimes silence is best (certainly safest!). But when we first meet someone, when we go to see them, often words are required too. What do you say when you encounter someone who is grieving?
Lori, bless your heart for sharing some of your thoughts with us. We do so often want to help but don't know how. Years ago, I went through training to be a Stephen Minister, a companion who walks beside someone going through a difficult time. Much of the 60 hours of training was about listening, and patience. Your suggestions in this post will help many people offer meaningful support to those who need it.
I especially appreciated the suggestions that involve naming the person. So often we are afraid to say something that might be upsetting, but I think people appreciate knowing that their loved one was also loved by others and is missed by others. Sharing a memory, saying a prayer, shedding a tear, or a silent touch, can be comforting to both the giver and receiver.
@galenpearl That's the most important part, naming them, keeping them alive and present. I'm afraid I did that all too much and still do. I don't know if I make people feel uncomfortable when I do. But I need to do it.
For nearly 30 years I dealt with death and loss on a daily basis. There are many folks that work with people in such situations, namely doctors and nurses, and many more caretakers. I often wonder what they say and do. I think several will say - I feel for your loss and leave it at that.
Although the death and loss I dealt with was that of folks pets. During those years of 'pet grief counseling' it was usually not what was said but just the being there, as they began their grieving process.
The one thing I always remember saying is that no matter what anyone says or does (even though your pet was now on the other side of the "Rainbow bridge") there is one thing no one can ever take from you ... and that is all the memories that you hold dear to your heart.
We would talk about the good times and the bad and of course the sad times too. Mostly, as was said earlier, it was to listen to them, even if it was just silence filled with sniffles and tears.
(This is Lori's saying - please remember the one you have lost. They are still in your hearts so remember them.)
Grieving for a pet is no different than for a person for many people. They are 'kids' with fur. I still run into folks from those days who were so thankful for understanding what they were going through.
Little did they know that during the last few years of my working in the Veterinary field, that I was dealing with my own grieving process from losing both my best friends within 15 months of each other. Not only were they my parents, but my closest neighbors and as I said, my best friends.
Due to work and other constraints I was not able to actually 'grieve' my parents death until nearly 2 years after they had passed. It took a long time to heal and now almost 10 years have passed (my mom died on Feb 1, 2003, Dad in May 2004), I still miss them. Sadness still overtakes me at times. But then I remember that - again as was said by another - "We'll see you again soon!" (Not the exact words but you know what I mean.)
It is hard to talk about them, but usually the best, is to remember the good times, the shared times. That is when I feel the closest to them. And as I said they are "forever in my heart and my memory. "
Grieving is so individual and so different for everyone. And yes, give it time. It takes time. Grieving is a mental healing process, that cannot be hurried.
So what do you say? I agree - I think the best is ' How are you doing? and add something about the one that has passed on. " And really mean it! Be sincere and not just saying 'words'.
~Penny
@PennyK "It is hard to talk about them, but usually the best, is to remember the good times, the shared times. That is when I feel the closest to them." We can hold on to that Penny. I'm sorry you experienced so much loss in so short a time. Sometimes life is not that much fun at all.
@Lori
You got that right. If life didn't always have to be a 'test' would be great. To have one day without a bazillion challenges would be nice. But then again, what would I do with myself if I didn't have so much to do and challenges to complete?
@PennyK Thanks Mom! Doin it!
@Lori Now, as a Mom & aromatherapist, "drink plenty of fluids, get plenty of rest, and sniff your essential oils!" Take care Lori, and may you (& hubby) have a speedy recovery.
@PennyK LOL Penny, a bad question to ask of me today because today I'd happily surrender the grief and the hell-ish flu that has gripped my husband and myself. (They seem connected, I don't know.) When life is going swimmingly we have such a different take on it than we do when we're faced with the bazillion challenges. I'm with you, to have one day without them must be treasured.
@PennyK Penny, I just wanted to say that I appreciated your comment. When my dog died last summer, I couldn't believe how wonderful the staff was. The doctor who was there that day didn't even know Sadie, but he sat on the floor with me while I cried and held her and told him all about Sadie until I was finally ready to say goodbye to her. I was never rushed. Afterwards, they let me stay with her as long as I wanted. I will never forget his gentle kindness.
This is a hard one, Lori. Not because I haven't been there myself, but because each of us handle grief differently. What might offend one, may not offend the other, or vice versa. I know when my mother passed away two years ago, my emotions were all over the place. Since I was her oldest son, most of the responsibility of handling her affairs fell on my lap. It wasn't easy for me. I had just watched her slowly over an entire week period fight to hold on, until her cancer would eventually win the battle. It was also hard for me when people who had been around her the entire time, all of sudden wanted to be helpful; and weren't as helpful when she was living. I even had someone to come up to me during the service and said, "In time, you'll get over it." I couldn't compose myself at that point, any longer. I asked her, "What exactly will I get over?" My tone and facial expression surely must've conveyed to her that I wasn't amused in the least bit. In my honest opinion, if people aren't aware of what to say, or when to say, then silence is always golden. Say nothing. Offer nothing. Empathize and move on. It's really that simple. I've seen it where some people enjoy the attention that death brings to them. Making funerals an event like Saturday morning yard sales. They have their favorite funeral attire already prepared for the next one. So, in my mind, they are sitting around waiting for people's time to end. That's just creepy to me. After I got back home to go through my mothers things, to see what I was keeping and what I was discarding - I came across a stack of obituaries. No kidding. She had at least 70 of them. It further proves my original point. We each handle grief/death differently. What may work for some, may not work for others. This really is a hard one to say what's the "right" way of going about saying anything at such a sensitive time.
@Deone Higgs Hi Deone, I agree that it is very hard to know what to say. It's a crying (pun intended) shame that so many people say things like "In time, you'll get over it."
They don't realize how that feels to a grieving person or else they wouldn't say it.It's not hard to be angry about it but they really just don't know. So many people said so many unhelpful things after my mom died. A month and a half later we were at the wake of one of her good friends seeing the friends' daughters and son. I knew what not to say but I didn't know what TO say, so I said nothing. Just hugged and looked at them, likely everything I was feeling showing on my face.
One of the most uplifting thing I heard after the death of my Mom came from her doctor. Because we are Christians and so is the doctor what he said made so much sense and was just what we as her family needed to hear. I cherish his short sentence and think of it whenever I begin feeling the loss of her. He said, "I'll see you in a few minutes, Bonnie." And, from her perspective that is so true.
@Yvonne Root Thanks for sharing that Yvonne! It's beautiful!
Hello Lori,
When my lovely dad died I bought a book that helped me a lot. Don't be put off by the title, it's meant to be tongue in cheek. It's 'You'll get over it' by Virginia Ironside.
As to what to say, that's hard. My friends know how much I'm grieving at the moment, for a pet. They don't say anything because they tell me they worry that talking about her will make me cry. They know me so well. I feel that a touch on the arm is best, but even that makes me cry sometimes. Everyone will have their own feelings about this and it's hard to explain to people who feel helpless as to what to do or say.
@LindaMHewett Hi Linda,
"Everyone will have their own feelings about this and it's hard to explain to people who feel helpless as to what to do or say." So true. Is it like a lottery, landing upon the best response when we're all so different/
I'm sorry you lost your pet! That's so hard!
Hi Lori. I'm grateful for your thoughts on this. Knowing how hard it must be for the mourner makes it difficult to find words, of course ... just as with your cousin. Maybe it stems from having a lot of self-consciousness about saying just the right thing? Anyway, it's really helpful to see what is better for you to hear and receive from others.
I have an extended question. Have you found that the words you want to hear have changed over time? They talk about stages of grief and for me, that complicates things ... not knowing "where she's at" emotionally at that particular moment.
I find myself wanting to know so much more about Alex ... his fearlessness for one, and how that translated to the way he lived.
Hugs, Lori :-)
@Carmelo There may well be stages of grieving but that was a prophecy I wanted nothing of. I didn't want to read any books (not even now) but to organically travel this road in my own way. I still want people to mention his name, at family dinners, for instance, a place where he's sorely missed. When it's my husband, daughter and I we always mention him during grace. I want to acknowledge that in some way he is still with us and I want to know that others miss him too. I guess that's the biggest thing for me. If we're all different, what is the biggest thing for others? @Raji Mohan ? @PennyK @Julie | A Clear Sign
Knowing what's important to someone would be a challenge, unless it is universal.
It's kind of you to say you want to know more about Alex. I still couldn't begin that narrative
As for what my cousin said, I appreciated that he was devastated and that was the most he could give to us. It was more than enough.
@Lori @Carmelo @PennyK @Julie | A Clear Sign What a lovely line "I want to organically travel this road in my own way". You've captured my sentiments exactly and completely. And once again I am nodding my head at not wanting to read any books on this topic. A lot of people have pointed out to me that it wasn't a good idea to make a photo wall of my sister in her bedroom which my mother and I now share. We beg to differ - she was such a beautiful child and I had taken so many lovely portraits of her - it gives us such joy to see her face throughout the day. But people fail to understand that, they suggested we take out all her pics. We did the exact reverse- we put up more of them everywhere.
@Raji Mohan @Carmelo @PennyK @Julie | A Clear Sign Yes, you have to be allowed to do it in a way that feels right to you. I trusted my intuition, doing what I wanted to do and saying no when I didn't want to do something.
I have pictures on my desk, and in my living room. They will always be members or our families.
@Lori @Raji Mohan @PennyK @Julie | A Clear Sign I think I understand. I think I mentioned before that when my best friend died years ago, his wife was very much into the books, the stages, etc. I think it just must be different for everyone which is what prompted my question. It's probably so important to be yourself and to not try to live from another's perspective or in some "right" fashion. It has to work for you ... and you're doing it organically. :-)
Thanks for posting this, Lori. I've often found myself at a loss for words or actions. When my husband's friend lost his wife last year, I just sent him up to stay with him for a week and held the fort down here - when I finally spoke with him, he just started talking and I listened, that was about it. Sometimes I just hug them, but I've found there are people who don't want to be touched.
The one thing I disliked when my Mom died was the annual email reminders with a negative tone that I'd get from her best friend. I like to honor her on her birthday in a joyful, happy way - because that's how we treated birthdays when she was alive. But I can depend upon a birthday email from this lady which implies I should be in agony, and how awful it is that she died young, yada yada, and instead of making me feel better it always made me upset. So I stopped opening her emails, at least on that day. Some people just know the exact wrong thing to say. On the other hand I always like a reminder of a happy memory, or a story about her that I may not have known about or remembered.
@Julie | A Clear Sign Hi Julie, Do you think we're at a loss for words because we feel helpless in the face of someone's grief? If the person trusts us enough, and the setting is conducive to it, they may talk after a time. Everyone is different, though as evidenced by your mother's friend who mourns anew on her Birthday.
One of the nicest things that happened after Alex's passing is that people shared stories about him - even online on the memorial site. Some of his classmates actually wrote letters to us, giving us a perspective on him that we wouldn't have had.I so appreciated that. I was impressed with the young people, intuitively knowing how valuable this would be for us.
@Lori I think so. When I was a teenager my best friend's mother died suddenly of a brain aneurysm after spending a week in the hospital. At the same time, my mother was very ill and flat on her back for a year. I called my friend every day to check in, but it became increasingly difficult to communicate and I felt like she didn't want to be bothered. I was very uncomfortable, and with my best friend! Finally one day I decided to skip the call, and that was the night her mother died. At the funeral I simply did not know what to do. I felt like I should be close - these people were like my second family, but everything was chilly, and she didn't speak to me again until many years later. Now we are very distant, "facebook" friends, and she doesn't seem to remember or at least not hold a grudge. I think I was traumatized by the whole thing. My mother lived another 25 years, though quite ill for most of that time. It was somehow an unspoken thing that it wasn't fair somehow that my mother lived? So even though now I do mediumship work, people don't seem to come to me who are fresh in grief. They come a bit later on. It's weird, isn't it?
@Lori I am a big believer that "I get who is supposed to come to me." Mediumship is kind of incidental or maybe accidental would be a better word - it's really easy for me to do, but it's my least requested service. Most people seem to come for guidance in their next steps in life, or how to break through a barrier or block in connecting with their own intuition. Well, I'm not going to second guess "what is"...I figure I am supposed to help whoever is sent my way. Maybe as I learn and grow these things change.
@Julie | A Clear Sign That is weird Julie! A regretful bit of bad timing - wow. What do you make of it - the fact people don't come to you fresh in grief? It would seem that since you are a medium people would come to you much sooner.
I agree with johncharlesowens.
A Hug, a touch can mean so much more than a spoken word.
Talking about things 'one on one' or in a group.
And I agree - "I remember when ..."
It takes time, grief is different for everyone. Allowing 'time' is necessary.
Knowing 'when 'to say something or not to say something is probably the hardest when approaching the person grieving.
As the one grieving - you will always remember the one(s) you lose. And from a personal stand point, even after many years there isn't a day goes by I don't think about the ones I lost that were so very dear to me.
And yes I miss them.
What always helps is when we meet folks is to say "I remember .... about ..." And that always makes me feel much better. To know that 'they' too remember and loved the same person.
~Penny
@PennyK Yes, Penny, because one of the worst things about grieving, no matter how many people are around, is the feeling of being alone. To know someone else remembers and cares helps.
I think the worst thing anyone said to me was when my mother died. He told me that someone told him this when his mother died. I guess it didn't bother him so much because he said it to me; "Your life will never be the same." I didn't need to hear that. Even prophecies of "You'll get over it," are offensive. It may be true that you will get to a better space in time, but "getting over" it?
I understand that most people don't understand. Thus this post ;-)
@Lori The worst we heard was along the same lines too - "there's no getting over this kind of loss, you'll live the rest of your life with this". Almost sounds like a curse and it might well be how we will get through our lives but really there is no need to hear it.
@Raji Mohan It did feel like a curse Raji! You are in such a vulnerable state when you hear it, fearing that very thing and wondering how you go on without the person. It's not at all something you need to hear at a time like that.