What to Say to Someone Who Is Grieving

The short answer: keep it simple and true. "I'm so sorry" is enough, and so is "I don't know what to say, but I'm here." Use their person's name, offer specific help rather than "let me know if you need anything", and avoid anything that tries to make the loss smaller. Then keep checking in, long after the funeral.

A few years ago I lost several friends in quick succession, and watched other friends lose parents and siblings around the same time. I wanted to be there for them, and I didn't have the first idea what to say. That gap is a big part of why I trained as a grief coach. Most people who get this wrong aren't unkind. They're just unprepared, and nobody ever showed them how.

What do grieving people want to hear?

Something short and true is almost always better than something clever. What people remember afterwards is rarely the exact words. It's who turned up, and who went quiet.

A few things that tend to land well:

• "I'm so sorry."
• "I don't know what to say, but I'm here."
• "I'm so sorry about your mum. I'll miss her too."
• "You don't have to reply, I just wanted you to know I'm thinking of you."
• "There's no right way to do this. However you're feeling is OK."

Use their person's name. A lot of bereaved people worry that the person they've lost will be forgotten, or that everyone is avoiding the subject to spare them. Hearing the name, or a small memory ("I keep thinking about your dad's terrible jokes"), usually lands as a relief rather than a wound.

What should you not say?

Some phrases, however kindly meant, tend to land badly. Most of them try to make the loss smaller or tidier. The alternatives just stay with it.

How do you comfort someone who is grieving over text?

A text is often the kindest first contact. It's easy to read when they're ready, and it doesn't ask them to hold a conversation they might not have the energy for. The most useful thing you can add is permission not to reply.

What is a good message to send someone who is grieving?

Short, warm and specific. It doesn't need to be well written. A few that work:

• "I'm so sorry about [name]. No need to reply, I just want you to know I'm thinking of you."
• "I've got no words, but I love you and I'm here."
• "I'm going to the shops tomorrow. Can I drop anything round? A yes or no is fine."
• "Thinking of you today. I know it's [name]'s birthday."
• "Still here, still thinking of you. No need to answer."

The last two matter more than people realise. Messages tend to pour in during the first week and then stop, so one that arrives a month or a year later often means the most.

How can I help in practical ways?

"Let me know if you need anything" is kind, but it hands the grieving person a job: working out what they need, then asking for it. Most people won't. A specific offer is far easier to say yes to.

Think about the ordinary things that still need doing: meals, the shopping, the school run, walking the dog, the bins, a lift to an appointment. Say what you'll do and when. "I'm dropping a lasagne round tomorrow and I'll leave it on the step" is easy to accept, and they don't even have to answer the door.

The admin after a death is relentless, and it lands at the moment people can least manage it. You can make phone calls for them, sit with them while they make their own, or keep a list of what's been done and what hasn't. The government's Tell Us Once service lets you report a death to most government organisations in one go, and it's exactly the kind of thing a friend can look up and walk someone through.

How do I listen without trying to fix it?

You can't fix this, and trying to is tiring for both of you. The most useful thing is usually to listen and not steer. Let them cry, go quiet, get angry, or talk about something else entirely, and don't rush to fill the silences.

Expect to hear the same story more than once. Going over what happened, again and again, is part of how people take in something that doesn't make sense yet, and it's one of the reasons grief is so tiring (there's more on that in Grief Brain). Listen the fifth time the way you listened the first.

Try not to compare losses, even to show you understand. If you've been through something similar and it would genuinely help, say so briefly, then bring it back to them.

How can I support someone in the months after a death?

Support tends to arrive in a rush in the first couple of weeks and then fall away after the funeral, just as the reality is setting in. Being the person who's still there at three months is worth a great deal.

Put the date of the death, their person's birthday and any anniversaries in your calendar, and get in touch on or around them. Christmas, Mother's Day and Father's Day can be hard as well.

Keep inviting them to things, and make it obvious there's no pressure. "Come if you feel like it, and bail at the last minute if you don't" is an easy invitation to accept.

Don't read a quiet spell as a sign they're fine, or that they don't want you around. Keep the door open.

What if I'm worried about them?

Grief is meant to be heavy, and a lot of what looks worrying is normal. But it's worth gently suggesting they see their GP if, months on, they're barely functioning: not eating, not sleeping, unable to work or look after themselves, or if the grief seems frozen rather than moving at all. The NHS suggests seeing a GP if low mood has lasted more than two weeks (NHS).

If they talk about not wanting to be here, wanting to be with the person who died, or harming themselves, take it seriously and don't leave them alone with it. Help them contact their GP, Samaritans on 116 123, NHS 111, or 999 in an emergency.

Look after yourself too

Supporting someone through grief is draining, especially if you're grieving the same person. You don't have to be their only support, and you don't have to get it right every time. Showing up imperfectly is still showing up.