When someone we care about loses a loved one, most of us find ourselves searching for the right words. We want to help. We want to say something that reaches them, something that eases even a small part of what they are carrying. And then the moment comes, and the words either don’t arrive at all, or they arrive wrong, and we walk away feeling like we let the person down.
Most of us have been there. And most of us will be there again.
This is not a script, because grief is far too personal for that. But there are some things that genuinely help, and some things that, despite the best intentions, tend to make it harder. Understanding the difference can make a real difference to someone you love.
Why Words Feel So Impossible
Part of the difficulty is that we are trying to fix something that cannot be fixed. Grief is a natural and necessary response to love and loss, and there is nothing anyone can say that will make it go away. When we reach for silver linings or reassurances, we are often trying to manage our own discomfort with the situation as much as we are trying to help the person in front of us.
In many South African communities, as in cultures around the world, death is not something we talk about openly or often. Most of us were never taught how to sit with someone else’s grief. We were not given the language for it, and so when the moment arrives, we feel lost. That is not a reflection of how much we care. It is simply a reflection of how little preparation most of us have ever had.
What Genuinely Helps
The most comforting things you can say to someone who is grieving tend to be the simplest ones. Not the most profound, not the most carefully chosen, just the most honest. Saying ‘I am so sorry. I am thinking of you’, ‘I cannot imagine how hard this is, but I am here’, or ‘You do not have to go through this alone’ is enough.
What these phrases have in common is that they do not try to resolve anything. They simply say: I see you, and I am not going anywhere. That is what most grieving people need to hear more than anything else.
One of the most meaningful things you can also do is invite the person to talk about who they have lost. Asking to hear about someone, who they were, what they meant, and what they will remember about them, is a beautiful way to help them feel seen and heard. It says that the person who passed away mattered, and that you are not afraid to remember them with them.
And sometimes the most honest thing is also the most human. Saying ‘I don’t have the right words, but I want you to know I care’ costs nothing and often means everything. David Kessler, one of the world’s foremost grief experts and author of Finding Meaning: The Sixth Stage of Grief, writes that what a grieving person needs most is not for their pain to be taken away, but for it to be witnessed. To have someone sit with them in it, without flinching and without trying to move them past it.
What to Avoid, and Why
Most of the phrases that cause unintentional hurt are said with genuine love. That is what makes them worth understanding.
‘Everything happens for a reason’ is one of the most common, and for many grieving people it lands as dismissive, especially in the rawness of early loss. ‘At least they had a long life’ or ‘at least they are no longer suffering’ tend to have a similar effect. A person can know something to be true and still be devastated by it. Pointing toward the silver lining does not dissolve the grief; it can make the person feel that their grief is not quite acceptable.
‘I know how you feel’ is also worth setting aside. Grief is deeply personal, and even if you have been through something similar, the other person’s experience is entirely their own. The phrase, however well-meant, can shift the focus away from them at the moment they need it most.
‘You need to be strong’ is one of the more isolating things a grieving person can hear. It places an expectation on them to hold themselves together for everyone else’s sake, and quietly tells them that their grief is something to be managed rather than felt.
When Words Are Not the Point
Often, the most meaningful support has very little to do with what you say. In the days immediately after a loss, when a family is overwhelmed with funeral arrangements, visitors, decisions, and all the relentless logistics of a loved one passing, showing up and doing something practical is one of the most loving things you can do. Bringing food without waiting to be asked. Offering to handle a specific errand. Sitting quietly with someone in the same room, without needing to fill the silence.
Attending the funeral or memorial matters more than many people realise. Your presence is a statement in itself. And a handwritten card or note, in a world where most communication is instant and disposable, tends to be kept for years.
The Long Haul
One of the things people mention most often is how quickly the support falls away. The first week after a loss can feel full of people and presence. By the second or third week, most of those people have returned to their routines, and the person who is grieving is left to navigate the hardest part largely alone.
Grief does not follow a two-week timeline. Reaching out on a random Tuesday, three months later, to say you are thinking of someone. Mentioning their loved one on their birthday, or at a significant anniversary, rather than carefully avoiding it. Inviting a grieving friend for coffee with no agenda beyond being together. These small, continuing gestures matter far more than most people know.
You do not need to say the perfect thing. You simply need to show up and keep showing up. If you found this article insightful, we recommend that you read When Grief Shows Up in Your Body: Understanding the Physical Side of Loss and Being There After the Storm: Support That Lasts Beyond the Funeral as well.
If you have recently lost someone and are finding your way through what follows, Sonja Smith Elite Funeral Group is here to help. We walk alongside families through every part of the journey. You are welcome to reach out at any time via sonjasmith-funerals.co.za.
