Many people want to know what “normal” grief looks like— how long it lasts, what the stages are, and what to expect. The truth is, there are as many ways to grieve as there are people who grieve. Each experience is uniquely shaped by love, relationships, beliefs, and circumstances. In this piece, I’ll do my best to offer clarity and compassion around some of the most common questions and misconceptions.
Before we begin, I want you to know who’s speaking to you. I am a licensed psychotherapist and clinical social worker with twenty-five years of experience. But my true education in grief began the day my son died ten years ago. That loss brought me to my knees. It taught me more about grief than any textbook or training ever could. It gave me the kind of compassion that only comes from walking through fire. I’ve been there. I am there. And I know how much you’re hurting.
Myths About Grieving
Grief is not linear. It doesn’t move neatly through predictable stages or follow a timeline. Instead, it rises and falls like the ocean — sometimes crashing with unbearable force, other times receding softly into the background.
Grief also doesn’t “end”. There isn’t a moment when we simply “move on”. What happens instead is that grief changes. It shifts shape. Over time, we grow around it, learning to carry it differently. How this unfolds depends on so many factors: the nature of your loss, your upbringing, your spiritual beliefs, your emotional supports, and more.
Supporting Someone Who is Grieving
If i you’re trying to support someone in grief, your presence is the most powerful gift you can offer. Be there. In the beginning, people often struggle to function —to eat, to sleep, to think. Hug them. Bring food. Sit quietly. Simply be there.
Don’t worry too much about saying the perfect thing. Listening is more healing than advice. You might ask:
- “What’s this like for you?”
- “How can I help?”
- “What brings you comfort right now?”
Things not to say
Avoid comments that try to explain or minimize the loss. Even when well-intentioned, phrases like these can feel painful:
1. They’re better off in heaven.
2. Now they’re not suffering anymore.
3. Everything happens for a reason.
4. At least they lived a good long life/as long as they did.
5. At least you have other children/you can have more.
6. Time heals all wounds.
7. I know exactly how you feel.
8. You have to stay strong.
9. You should be over it by now.
10. God needed another angel
11. You’re young. You’ll find someone else.
12. Try to stay busy.
13. Everything’s going to be okay.
14. Don’t cry. They wouldn’t want you to be sad.
Things that help
Try simple, sincere expressions of care:
1. I’m so sorry I don’t know what to say, but I’m here for you.
2. This must be so painful. May I hug you?
3. That sounds really hard. I can listen.
4. Would you like to share of memory of them?
5. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling, but I care.
6. I’m here. Do you want company, space, a walk, a meal?
Time Does Not Heal All Wounds
We often hear that “Time heals all wounds”, but time alone does not heal. It’s what you do with the time that matters. Avoiding grief or pushing it away often deepens the pain, leading to emotional or even physical symptoms — depression, anxiety, panic, or exhaustion. Some people develop physical illnesses when grief remains unacknowledged. Wading through grief without processing it can lead to horrific coughs, vomiting, or serious illness. Healing requires allowing ourselves to feel, to cry, to remember, and to integrate our loss into a new reality.
Has Grief Become Depression?
Normal grief often looks like depression. For the first two months after the death of a loved one, it is normal to experience symptoms of clinical depression without the diagnosis to go with it. After those first two months, the DSM-5-TR expects those symptoms to abate somewhat. If someone is still experiencing enough symptoms and with enough severity to have depression, they can then be diagnosed. It is normal to feel sad, be less motivated, have disrupted sleep, have less appetite, feel either sluggish or agitated, feel tired, have less self-esteem, have a hard time concentrating, and even have thoughts of death. It takes five of those symptoms most of the time for 2 weeks or more to be diagnosed with depression. Those two weeks would have to begin 2 months after the death of a loved one.
The Stages of Grief
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross originally identified five stages of grief, later expanded to 6 by David Kessler. These stages are not steps to complete but emotional landscapes we move through and revisit in varying order.
- Shock and denial
- Depression
- Anger
- Bargaining
- Acceptance
- Finding meaning
Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking beautifully captures the shock and denial phase. When my son died, my first year felt like moving through a fog. Some days, grief felt sharp and consuming — I’d collapse into tears, unable to cook or think. I felt like I was crumbling into pieces. Other days, it felt unreal, as though he were simply away at college.
Anger often masks deeper sadness. Beneath irritation or rage, you’ll often find fear or sorrow. Taking space to process your fear or sorrow will usually eliminate the irritability or anger.
Bargaining makes us want to make deals with God or the Universe, or it can make us review everything we think we could have done differently to make them still be alive. It made me daydream about breaking down his door and stopping the process that caused his death, making him talk to me, and insisting that he allow me to support him so I could have prevented his death.
For me, true acceptance didn’t arrive until I began finding meaning. Acceptance without meaning felt hollow. Over time, I found that my loss called me into a deeper spiritual life — one that moved from the intellect into the heart, a fully embodied spirituality, an acceptance of all forms of spirituality, and a practicing of the kinds that suited my heart. Writing became a way to honor my son’s life and help others cope with grief and other emotional struggles. I realized that through words, I could reach and comfort far more people than I could in my office.
How Long Does Grief Last?
There is no universal timeline. The depth and duration of grief depend on your relationship with the person who died, how effectively you employ your coping skills, and how many life stresses you’re dealing with at the same time. You can love an animal deeply, and yet we, humans, don’t tend to grieve as long for our animal companions. The death of a parent, spouse, sibling, or child can each carry different complexities. The loss of a child, especially, feels unnatural — a reversal of life’s expected order — and such grief can last years or a lifetime.
Even so, grief changes. Over time, the waves soften. The pain may visit less frequently and stay for shorter periods. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting; it means learning to live with love and loss intertwined.
Processing Grief
There are many ways to work through grief — and none are wrong. You might express it through art, music, writing, movement, meditation, or prayer. Talking helps. Walking or any exercise with intention can help as well.
When grief feels stuck or overwhelming, EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) can be an effective tool to release emotional pain. You can learn about it here:
https://ericalhernandez.com/eft-emotional-freedom-technique/: Understanding GriefEFT may first bring grief to the surface — allowing tears to release —before offering real relief.
My Journey with Grief
In my own life, grief has been a long companion. My eldest son died at age 30, ten years ago, followed soon after by both of my parents. Five years later, another of my children became seriously ill. Those years changed me.
After my son’s death, I went back to work quickly — perhaps too quickly — to help others and distract myself from my suffering. I remember crying all the way to work, holding myself together through sessions, then crying again on the way to pick up my young children from school. I developed a crying meditation, which I did daily, and would cry before bed. There were times when I would play street tennis with my children, which brought me joy. His death felt unreal at those times, relegated to another world. I’ve gotten through it. I won’t say it’s gone. It will never be gone. But my grief comes up less frequently and for shorter time periods now. I’ve just succeeded in making it through my first death/birth anniversary (they’re two days apart) without intense grief. There’s hope for me. And there’s hope for you.