What to Say to Someone Who Lost a Loved One? I Have No Idea

Written by
GreatAmberAirLunchBoxInAthensWithDespair
Published on
Monday, 18 November 2024
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The story

A few months ago, I faced something I never thought I’d have to deal with—trying to comfort my best friend after she lost her mom. It was sudden, a heart attack, and it left everyone in her family completely shattered. I remember getting the phone call and just sitting there in shock. What do you even say when something like that happens?

When I went to see her the next day, I froze at the door. I had all these things running through my head, but none of them seemed right. “I’m sorry for your loss” felt too generic. “She’s in a better place” sounded hollow. And “let me know if you need anything” felt like something people just say, but never follow through on. I stood there for a good five minutes, rehearsing words in my head, and none of them felt like enough.

Finally, I rang the bell. When she opened the door, I could see how much pain she was in. Her eyes were red, her shoulders slumped, and she looked like she hadn’t slept at all. I panicked and blurted out, “I’m so sorry.” She nodded and let me in without saying much. The whole visit, I kept second-guessing myself. Should I talk about her mom? Should I stay quiet? Was I making her feel worse?

At one point, she started crying, and all I could think to do was sit beside her and let her cry. I didn’t say anything. I just put my arm around her. And you know what? She told me later that was exactly what she needed—someone to just be there without trying to fix it or say the "right" thing.

That experience taught me a lot about what to say to someone who lost a loved one—or rather, what not to say. I realized that people don’t need clichés or advice in those moments. They don’t want to hear “time heals all wounds” or “everything happens for a reason.” Those words might come from a good place, but they don’t really help when someone is drowning in grief. What they need is for you to acknowledge their pain and let them feel it without judgment.

Over the weeks that followed, I tried to be there for her in small ways. I checked in with her often, even if it was just a text saying, “Thinking of you today.” I didn’t expect her to reply, but I wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. I also made sure to listen when she wanted to talk, even if she repeated the same stories about her mom over and over again. I learned that grief doesn’t follow a timeline, and people need to process it at their own pace.

One thing that really stood out to me was how much she appreciated when people shared memories of her mom. At the funeral, a mutual friend told a funny story about how her mom used to sneak extra candy into her kids’ stockings at Christmas, even though she’d pretend to be strict about sugar. My friend smiled—really smiled—for the first time that day. It was a reminder that her mom wasn’t just gone; she was still a part of all of us through those memories.

Now, when someone asks me what to say to someone who lost a loved one, I always tell them the same thing: don’t overthink it. It’s not about finding the perfect words; it’s about showing up and letting them know you care. Sometimes, saying “I’m here for you” and actually being there is more powerful than any other words.

Another thing I learned is that support doesn’t stop after the first few weeks. In the beginning, everyone rushes to offer condolences and bring meals, but as time goes on, people get busy with their own lives. That’s when the person grieving needs support the most. I made a point to invite my friend out for coffee or walks months after her mom’s passing, and she told me those little gestures made all the difference.

Looking back, I realize how much I’ve grown through this experience. I used to feel helpless and awkward around grief, but now I know it’s okay not to have all the answers. Sometimes, just saying “I don’t know what to say, but I’m here for you” is enough. It’s not about solving their pain—it’s about being a steady presence while they navigate through it.

If you’re reading this because you’re struggling with what to say to someone who lost a loved one, I hope this helps. Just remember, you don’t have to fix anything or make it better. Let them cry, let them talk, or just sit in silence with them if that’s what they need. Your presence alone speaks louder than any words ever could.



Points of view

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QuirkyCrimsonEarthCoffeeScoopInSanFranciscoWithLove 2d ago

Wow, I gotta say, your story is interesting but I'm not too sure I totally agree...


When my uncle passed away, I found that people appreciated hearing the old classic 'time heals all wounds' - it was like a light in a dark tunnel!!! Throwing out clichés ain't always bad, you know; they might offer some comfort amidst all that chaos and heartache. A friend once told me, "It's the thought that counts," and clichéd phrases can sometimes resonate more than we give them credit for.


Anyway, thanks for sharing your thoughts! 🤔

ChipperPeachFireSauceboatInMexicoCityWithLove 2d ago

sometimes people need those comforting phrases to hold onto... it's not always about what you say but the intention behind it! My dad would always say: a kind word never hurt anyone... you know? 🤷 definitely think there's no one right way to handle loss...

SapphireTanEarthAlacrityInSeattleWithAmusement 20h ago

guess what, I mostly get your point... but seriously??? who needs clichés anyway lol 😒 got me thinking of when my friend lost her dad... all I did was sit with her in silence and yep, that worked like a charm!!! who knew saying less was like being some emotional support guru 😂 but hey... not everyone's gonna vibe with that, right???


might be just me but I think overthinking comments just makes things awkward 🙄

ExtravagantVioletAirLaptopInBudapestWithDisappointment
15h ago

I completely understand where you're coming from and tend to agree with your perspective; sometimes, the less said, the better. 🤔 Personally, I've found that being a silent presence can be immensely comforting to those who are grieving. When my aunt passed away, I spent countless hours just sitting with my cousin, providing her with company and quiet support. To my surprise, that seemed to make a significant difference in her healing process. Embracing these genuine moments of connection, without the need for grandiose expressions, often resonates more deeply than any cliché ever could. While not everyone responds the same way, it's refreshing to realize that simple acts of empathy can bring comfort and hope.