Easing the Loss of a Grandparent


I don’t claim to be an expert on death. I’m not a hospice nurse, grief counselor, or funeral director. I’m just a twenty-something who experienced the loss of four grandparents within a year and a half. I am not an expert on healing, coping, or moving on. I am simply not an expert on any of this… But I am someone who had to figure out what worked in an unfortunately rapid fire kind of way. The loss of a grandparent can be powerful, life-changing and completely disorienting, especially for tweens, teens and twenty-somethings who have had little experience with death in the past. Here are a few recommendations to ease the loss of a grandparent (or four).

Accept — It doesn’t have to be step one. In fact, Elisabeth Kubler-Ross lists acceptance as one of the last stages of grieving a loss. And, well, she’s the expert. In my experience, though, it would’ve been difficult to consciously embrace any of the other verbs below without at least acknowledging the death as a reality. Take some time to process what the loss means for you and for others. How are your life and theirs about to change? Prepare yourself for that. Think ahead to what waits beyond the immediate. Holidays will come, milestones will be reached, celebrations will occur…  The dust will settle eventually and it’s helpful to take some time as early as you possibly can (preferably even before the person passes) to envision that new reality. No one enjoys being blindsided…

Feel and Emote  — However and whenever you’d like. When you’re experiencing a loss, people just get it. They allow it. Take advantage of that. Not everyone cries, but cry if that’s your thing. Not everyone hugs, but I certainly do. Not everyone likes to feel and that’s fine, too… I still recommend it. Feelings deserve attention and why not let them out when they are most raw and most available to you. Now’s a great time to acknowledge their presence and express them however you will.

Do — Every death and its circumstances are different. Perhaps you are intimately involved and in charge of everything from planning services to executing a will. Perhaps you are not involved at all and are far removed from the events that immediately follow the passing. Maybe you’ve been far removed in general for a long time. The recommendation still stands. Find something to do. Find a way to participate, or at the very least, offer. Some suggestions…

  • Have a way with words? Write the obituary, or eulogy or notes to connect with others who are grieving, or journal to connect with yourself.
  • Have a soothing voice and/or some extra inner strength? Read at a service, make a toast, or simply converse with someone who seems to need an outlet.
  • Have strong communication or organizational skills? Offer to disseminate information, make calls, gather resources.
  • Computer-saavy? Make a program or memorial cards.
  • Crafty? Put together photo collages, make small meaningful momentos like these magnets to share with others.
  • Musical? Ask if you might be able to incorporate your gift at a formal service, or afterward at gatherings or just at home by yourself.

If all of that seems way beyond what your are capable of right now, or you don’t feel that any of those are appropriate actions for you to take… Be there. Be available. Be present. You’re doing more than you think.

Connect — Open yourself up to the opportunities that change can bring. Sad times can strengthen connections, revitalize relationships and help to create new ones. Keep your chin up and eyes open. See other people and reach out to them, even if all you can muster is eye contact. It could help draw someone out of the loneliness of loss. Sitting in silence can be healing especially if done together. And I’m always the biggest proponent of hugs. Share photographs, memories, lessons learned. Share love, feelings, talents. Share moments together; right now and in the future.

Smile — It just feels good, even if it’s through tears, or seems a little contrived. Smiles can be an offering of consolation, a small sign of hope, a tiny celebration of a life well lived. Spread the happy. It’s worth a shot.

Lean — Don’t forget that you’re human and all of this is well and good, but requires a lot of energy and effort and may just not work for you right now. Cue leaning. Utilize the supports available; those hospice nurses, grief counselors, funeral directors…you know, the experts. Find resources if you need them (support groups, online forums, plain ole therapy). Lean on your family;  no one knows of your loss quite like they do. And lean on your friends who may be able to stand tall for you because they can understand without feeling like they are falling too.

Find the reminders — I find my Memere in cardinals and lemonade, my Pepere in vegetable gardens and peppermints, my Grampa in wheat pennies and sirens and my Gram in the sun. They are everywhere if you’re looking for them.  Attribute significance and find the meaning in something tangible.  I’m not saying suddenly believe in reincarnation, or signs from above, or visitation from a world beyond our own… I’m talking about keeping memories alive by setting yourself up for spontaneous reminders.

Enjoy the legacy — Your grandparents left something to this world. It may be a lifelong career, a lifetime of service to others, a life full of joy. Identify that legacy. Revel in it. No matter what kind of life they lived, they left something… They left you. You are the greatest legacy of all; a living extension of their hearts and souls. If nothing else, revel in that.

The Hess station blog easing the loss of a grandparent recommendations for twenty-somethings

2 comments on “Easing the Loss of a Grandparent

  1. Jillian, wise beyond your years. How do you know all this stuff? Must be that you”ve had a great upbringing and the benefit of two wonderful human beings for parents, and that you yourself are blessed with the kindest of hearts. I’m really glad that you took the time to write these comforting words and I know they will be healing for anyone that reads them.

  2. Thank you for writing this post. I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason… it’s been over a year since my Mama Zoila passed but as I was wandering through shops in San Francisco today, I came across a sweet little purple and grey sweater made of alpaca wool and suddenly starts tearing up. I glanced up at my husband and without needing to explain anything he said her name. I don’t even remember seeing Ma Zoila in a sweater like that before but there was something about it that was just filled with her memory. I felt a little guilty about my reaction at the time since it’s been over a year but thanks to your post I don’t any more.

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