The Loneliest Part of Grief? When Everyone Else Moves On
When my daughter Maddie died by suicide, the news spread fast.
Our North Toronto community was shaken. Through school, sports, and friendships, our lives had intersected with so many others. And when people heard, they showed up in droves.
There was a massive outpouring of support.
Friends and family brought meals, took care of carpooling, and did everything possible to make life easier. The funeral home told us they had never seen so many people come through as when Maddie passed. At her celebration of life, people traveled from around the world just to be there.
And then, they left.
The house got quiet. The texts slowed. The check-ins became less frequent. Everyone else moved forward.
But we were stuck in neutral.
The Loneliness of Grief
Grief feels like something you carry together in the immediate aftermath of loss. You’re surrounded by people who want to help, ease the pain, and remind you that you’re not alone.
But then life keeps going, for everyone but you.
People return to their routines, their jobs, their families. They assume that time has helped, that if you’re not bringing it up, you must be okay.
But grief doesn’t fade on a schedule. It lingers in the quiet moments when the house is empty, when no one asks how you’re holding up anymore, when the world has moved forward, and you feel like you’re still standing in the same spot.
That’s the most challenging part of grief. Not just the loss, but the silence that follows.
Why People Move On (and Why It Hurts So Much)
Most people don’t stop checking in because they don’t care. They stop because they don’t know what to say.
They don’t want to bring up painful memories. They assume if you wanted to talk, you would. They worry about saying the wrong thing, so they say nothing.
And in their silence, grief becomes even heavier.
Watching the world move forward is hard when you feel frozen in place. People go on vacations, celebrate birthdays, announce engagements, and welcome new babies. And while you’re happy for them, there’s a part of you that wonders, how can life just go on like this?
It’s not resentment. It’s just the stark contrast between their world and yours.
Stuck in Neutral While the World Keeps Turning
Grief doesn’t just change your world, it changes your relationship with the world.
Everything feels different, even small things, like walking into a coffee shop where you used to go with them or hearing a song that reminds you of what you lost. It hits often and hard.
Meanwhile, everyone else is living; laughing, planning, moving forward.
But what do you do when you don’t feel ready to move forward?
What if you don’t even know how?
That’s the struggle of grief. It’s not just about missing someone, it’s about relearning how to exist in a world without them.
What Helps the Most
The grand gestures of support in the beginning are meaningful. But what matters most is what happens after.
The people who still text, even months later.
The ones who mention Maddie’s name, even when it feels like no one else does.
The ones who don’t expect you to “move on” but instead walk alongside you.
Grief doesn’t disappear, but it evolves. Some days are easier. Others feel just as raw as the day it happened. The people who understand this, those who don’t disappear after the initial wave of support, make the biggest impact.
What to Say to Someone Who’s Still Grieving
If you know someone who has lost a loved one, and you’re not sure how to support them, here’s what actually helps:
✅ Instead of “Let me know if you need anything” → Try: “I was thinking about Maddie today. Want to grab a coffee?”
✅ Instead of saying nothing → Send a simple text: “No need to reply, just wanted you to know I’m here.”
✅ Instead of avoiding the topic → Acknowledge it: “I can’t imagine how hard this still is, but I want you to know I haven’t forgotten.”
The truth is, grievers don’t forget. They don’t “move on.” They carry their loss every day. And when someone acknowledges that months, even years later, it makes a difference.
Holding Space for Grief
The hardest part of grief isn’t just losing someone. It’s learning to live in a world where they’re no longer here.
It’s the silence after the funeral. These are the days when no one asks how you’re holding up. The feeling that everyone else has moved forward, while you’re still figuring out how to keep going.
If you know someone who’s grieving, don’t assume they’re okay just because time has passed.
Send the text. Say their loved one’s name. Show up, long after everyone else has moved on.
Because grief doesn’t disappear.
But neither should the support.
