Grief
What Grief Teaches Us About Showing Up
When someone is grieving, remembering is support.
Posted June 14, 2026 Reviewed by Gary Drevitch
This week marks two dates I never expected to sit side by side.
My father's birthday was last week. He died suddenly the day after his birthday, a few years ago.
As those dates approach each year, I find myself paying attention not only to my own grief but also to my mother's. The days surrounding these anniversaries carry a particular weight. There is gratitude for the years we had with him, sadness for the years we have missed, and an awareness that life continues to move forward even when part of us remains connected to someone who is gone.
One of the unexpected lessons grief has taught me is that showing up for someone who is grieving is often far less complicated than we imagine.
Many people hesitate to mention a deceased loved one. They worry they might remind the person of their loss or make them sad. The assumption seems to be that grief only surfaces when it is mentioned. But anyone who has lost someone significant knows this isn't how grief works.
The people we love are not forgotten between conversations. They are present in ordinary moments: a smell, a song, a family recipe, an empty chair. Grieving people are already remembering.
Being reminded is not what hurts. What hurts is feeling as though everyone else has forgotten.
Our understanding of bereavement has shifted from the idea that we should "move on" from those we have lost to the idea that maintaining connection with a deceased loved one is common and helpful. The relationship does not end; it changes. We carry the person's influence, values, stories, and memories forward into our lives.
Perhaps this is why simple acts of remembrance can feel so meaningful: A text on a birthday. A note on the anniversary of a death. A shared memory that begins with, "I was thinking about your dad today." These gestures do not intensify grief but ease the loneliness that can accompany it.
Grief is love's continuation. I experience that continuation in small ways. In the moments when I offer guidance to a friend, extend compassion to someone who is struggling, or pause to consider what truly matters, I often recognize traces of my father. His life continues to shape mine, even in his absence.
And one of the most compassionate ways we can show up for those who are grieving is being willing to remember alongside them.
Sometimes the most healing message we can send is simply, "I remembered today too."