Recently I found myself reading dozens of messages people had written to someone whose parent had died.
Every message was trying to do the same thing: offer comfort. The care behind them was obvious. Yet some seemed to stand quietly beside the person in their grief, while others — with the very best of intentions — seemed to be trying to move them somewhere.
Stay strong.
Cherish the memories.
Time heals.
None of these words come from a bad place. They come from people who care deeply and desperately want to help. But it left me with a question that sits at the heart of so many difficult conversations:
Are my words helping me manage my discomfort, or helping the other person feel accompanied?
When someone has experienced a profound loss, there may be nothing we can say that will make it better. Accepting that may be where real support begins.
The problem isn’t that we don’t care
Most of us find it difficult to see someone we care about in pain. Someone tells us their mum has died, their relationship has ended, their child is struggling — and our mind immediately starts searching. What can I say? How can I make them feel better?
Silence feels uncomfortable, so we reach for something: advice, reassurance, perspective, a story from our own experience. Sometimes those things are useful. But sometimes our desire to make things better unintentionally communicates: I’d like you to feel differently from how you’re feeling right now.
Grief doesn’t always need somewhere to go. Sometimes it simply needs somewhere safe to be.
Presence before perspective
One of the principles I teach in Accidental Counsellor Training is simple: presence before perspective.
When someone is hurting, we can be very quick to offer them another way of looking at things.
At least they didn’t suffer.
You have so many wonderful memories.
They would want you to be happy.
The problem usually isn’t the words. It’s the timing.
A grieving person might eventually say, “I’m just so grateful I got that final day with Mum.” If they take us there, we can join them. That’s very different from us saying “At least you got a final day with her” while they are still trying to comprehend what has happened.
Perspective offered too early can feel like an invitation to look away from what hurts. Presence does something different. It says: This happened. It hurts. It matters. And I’m willing to stay here with you.
Let them lead us towards perspective.
What the research tells us
In a study of 372 adults experiencing traumatic grief, Cacciatore and colleagues (2021) found emotional support was the most desired form of social support — and noted an important mismatch that can occur between the support people offer and what grieving people actually want.
A scoping review of 52 studies by Schoonover and colleagues (2022) similarly found that supportive communication, peer connection, practical help and remembrance could be valuable, while clichés, platitudes, advice and statements about how grief should progress were among the most frequently reported unhelpful responses.
The research doesn’t provide a perfect sentence to use — and that’s really the point. Good support is responsive rather than scripted.
Three traps good people fall into
1. The Fixing Trap. We hear pain and immediately look for a solution. That’s understandable; helping people is usually a good thing. But the death of someone we love isn’t a problem waiting for the right answer. We can support someone through grief. We cannot remove the reason they are grieving.
2. The Silver-Lining Trap. The home of those two dangerous words: at least. The grieving person may eventually find meaning, gratitude, even joy within their experience. But we don’t need to find it for them. When they find it, we can stand there with them. Until then, we stand where they are.
3. The Wisdom Trap. When there are no obvious solutions, we reach for wisdom instead. Everything happens for a reason. Time heals all wounds. We want to give the person something meaningful. But someone in the middle of grief may not need our wisdom. They may simply need our humanity.
When you don’t know what to say
There is no universal script for grief, and I don’t think there should be. But there is a simple map that keeps us focused on the person rather than on finding the perfect words — not four boxes to tick, but four places to listen from.
ACKNOWLEDGE — RECOGNISE WHAT HAS HAPPENED
“What an incredibly difficult few days you’ve had.”
“That’s heartbreaking.”
“That’s so much to be dealing with.”
Notice we don’t have to tell someone what they’re feeling. “You must be devastated” claims to know what’s happening inside them. We can reflect their experience instead. The message is simply: I’ve heard you. What has happened matters.
CONNECT — TELL THEM THEY AREN’T CARRYING THIS ALONE
“I’m thinking of you.”
“Sending you and your family so much love.”
“I’m right here.”
There is a significant difference between “Sending you strength” and “You need to be strong.” One offers something. The other asks something of them.
If someone has kept functioning while carrying enormous grief, we can say:
“The strength it must have taken to keep showing up while carrying all of this says so much about you.”
That isn’t to keep being strong. It’s I saw what that cost you.
PERSONALISE — RESPOND TO THEIR STORY, NOT TO GRIEF IN GENERAL
Compare: “Cherish all the wonderful memories.”
with: “I still remember how your mum made everyone feel welcome when we came to your house.”
The first tells them what to do. The second shares something real.
You’re not responding to “grief”. You’re responding to this person, and to the person they’ve lost.
The same applies to “they live on through you.” Researchers use the term continuing bonds for the ways a connection with someone who has died continues — but a systematic review by Hewson and colleagues (2024) highlights how individual these experiences are, so I wouldn’t assume “Your mum will always be with you.” If we genuinely know the person, though, “I can see so much of your mum in the way you care for people” can carry enormous meaning. That’s not a technique. It’s personal — which is precisely why it matters.
Personalise. Don’t prescribe.
OFFER — OFFER SUPPORT WITHOUT TAKING OVER
“Let me know if you need anything” is kind, but a grieving person may not have the energy to work out what they need, decide who to ask, and then make the request. A specific offer is easier to receive:
“I’ll drop dinner over on Thursday.”
“I’m free Saturday morning if you’d like some company.”
“I’ll call next week — no pressure to answer.”
And perhaps the most valuable offer of all is to remember them later. Support arrives in abundance immediately after a death and then understandably fades as everyone else’s life continues — while the need for connection doesn’t. A message weeks later can mean a great deal: “I was thinking about you today. No need to reply.” Sometimes presence is simply letting someone know: I haven’t forgotten.
THE MAP, IN SHORT
| STEP | WHAT IT DOES | SOUNDS LIKE |
|---|---|---|
| Acknowledge | Recognises what happened | “That’s so much to be dealing with.” |
| Connect | Says they’re not alone | “I’m thinking of you. I’m right here.” |
| Personalise | Responds to them | “I still remember how your mum welcomed everyone.” |
| Offer | Gives something specific | “I’ll drop dinner over Thursday.” |
You don’t need the perfect words
Although grief brought me to this question, I don’t think this is really an article about bereavement. It’s about what happens whenever another human being trusts us with something difficult — a colleague whose marriage has ended, a friend whose child isn’t coping, a staff member who tells us they’re overwhelmed.
Our attention turns inwards: What should I say? Perhaps there is a better question: What does this person need from me right now?
Sometimes they need information. Sometimes advice. Sometimes there’s a practical problem we can help solve. But in those first moments of distress, they may need something far more fundamental — someone who isn’t frightened by their pain, isn’t rushing them through it, isn’t desperately searching for a positive. Someone prepared to listen. Someone willing to communicate: This is hard. This matters. I’m here.
You don’t need to be a counsellor to do that. You don’t need to make their grief disappear. And you don’t need the perfect words. You need genuine ones.
Sometimes the most powerful thing you can offer isn’t advice. It’s presence.
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References
Cacciatore, J., Thieleman, K., Fretts, R. & Jackson, L. B. (2021). What is good grief support? Exploring the actors and actions in social support after traumatic grief. PLOS ONE, 16(5), e0252324.
Hewson, H., Galbraith, N., Jones, C. & Heath, G. (2024). The impact of continuing bonds following bereavement: A systematic review. Death Studies, 48(10), 1001–1014.
Schoonover, K. L., Prokop, L. & Lapid, M. I. (2022). Valuable Informal Bereavement Support Strategies for Bereaved Parents of Stillborn, Young Children, and Adult Children: A Scoping Review. Journal of Palliative Care, 37(3), 381–400.
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