Navigating Grief and Loss

Grief is a universal experience, but one that never feels quite the same for any two people. As a counselling therapist, I often sit with clients in their most vulnerable moments—when the world feels as though it has come to a halt after the death of someone they loved. It’s a space I hold with care and compassion, not only as a professional but as someone who has also navigated the winding path of loss.

I lost my grandfather 8 years ago. He was a quiet man with a resolute presence—kind eyes that twinkled, a slow nod of understanding, and hands that bore the story of decades of farming. They were calloused and strong, stained by the earth and shaped by labor. As a child, I’d sit beside him in his living room, listening to him tell another one of his collection of stories, his hands always in motion, always sure.

His passing was a profound loss. Over time, what helped me most was something simple, yet deeply grounding—recalling the feel and image of his hands.

Even now, when grief revisits or when life feels overwhelming, I pause and bring to mind those hands. I imagine the texture of his skin, the way his fingers wrapped around mine as a child, and then again on his deathbed. This sensory memory brings me home to myself. It is my way of staying connected to him—not through the pain of his absence, but through the enduring presence of what he gave me: strength, steadiness, and love rooted in the land.

Understanding Grief: A Process, Not a Timeline

Grief is often described in stages—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance (Kübler-Ross & Kessler, 2005)—but real-life grief rarely follows such a linear path. More recent models, like the Dual Process Model of Coping with Bereavement (Stroebe & Schut, 1999), suggest that healthy grieving involves oscillating between loss-oriented activities (feeling the pain, yearning) and restoration-oriented activities (rebuilding life, taking on new roles).

This model can be helpful for those who feel they are "doing it wrong" because they still cry years later, or because they find themselves laughing only days after the loss. Both responses are valid. Grief, after all, is not a problem to be solved but a journey to be lived.

Honoring the Connection

A common therapeutic approach I use is continuing bonds theory, which supports maintaining a healthy and evolving relationship with the deceased (Klass, Silverman, & Nickman, 1996). This might involve talking to the person in your thoughts, wearing something that reminds you of them, or—like in my case—holding onto sensory memories that evoke their presence.

For many clients, this concept is a relief. They don’t have to "let go" in the way society sometimes pressures them to. Instead, they can find ways to carry their loved one forward—through traditions, memory, and presence.

Grounding Through Memory

One of the mindfulness-based practices I often guide clients through is sensory grounding—using texture, scent, sound, or imagery to bring oneself into the present moment. When we are grieving, it is easy to become untethered. Grounding helps reestablish that connection to the here and now.

For me, the memory of my grandfather’s hands is a grounding anchor. I encourage clients to find their own: perhaps the smell of a particular cologne, the rhythm of a shared song, or the shape of a handwritten note. These are not just memories—they are touchstones.

Supporting Yourself Through Grief

If you are grieving, know that:

• There is no "normal" timeline. Your process is your own.

• Grief can come in waves. Some days are heavier than others.

• You are allowed joy. Feeling happiness does not mean you have forgotten.

• Connection is still possible. Through memory, ritual, and reflection, we continue the bonds that matter most.

And if you find that grief is too heavy to carry alone, reaching out for support—whether through a therapist, a support group, or a trusted friend—can be a powerful step forward.

Final Thoughts

Loss reshapes us, but it also deepens our capacity for love, resilience, and meaning. When I think of my grandfather’s hands—how they cradled seedlings and repaired broken fences—I am reminded that life continues in the smallest acts of care. His strength is not gone; it lives in me.

If you're grieving, I see you. You're not alone in this. May you find comfort in memory, courage in healing, and connection in the spaces where love still lingers.

References

Kübler-Ross, E., & Kessler, D. (2005). On Grief and Grieving: Finding the Meaning of Grief Through the Five Stages of Loss. Scribner.Stroebe, M., & Schut, H. (1999). The Dual Process Model of Coping with Bereavement: Rationale and Description. Death Studies, 23(3), 197–224.Klass, D., Silverman, P. R., & Nickman, S. L. (1996). Continuing Bonds: New Understandings of Grief. Taylor & Francis.