Sunrise and sunset (11)
Grief

Grief Must Be Witnessed

“Grief must be witnessed.”

What does that really mean?

It means that when you are grieving, you don’t always need someone to fix you. You don’t need someone to explain why it happened. You don’t need someone to tell you to “move on,” “be strong,” or “look on the bright side.”

Sometimes, you simply need someone to see you.

To see that you are hurting.

To see that something has been lost.

To see that behind your smile, there may be a broken heart.

You Don’t Have to Be Okay

Grief is one of the most human experiences we will ever encounter.

We grieve when someone dies. But death is not the only thing we grieve.

We grieve relationships that ended.

We grieve marriages that didn’t become what we hoped they would be.

We grieve friendships that disappeared.

We grieve dreams that never happened.

We grieve opportunities we lost.

We grieve our health.

We grieve the future we thought we were going to have.

Sometimes, we even grieve a version of ourselves that no longer exists.

And yet, society often expects us to recover quickly.

We are expected to return to work, answer the phone, fulfil our responsibilities, smile at people and carry on as though nothing has happened.

So we learn to say:

“I’m fine.”

Even when we aren’t.

Grief Needs Somewhere to Go

Unwitnessed grief can become incredibly lonely.

When nobody asks, “How are you really doing?”, we may begin to believe that we have to carry everything ourselves.

We may suppress the tears.

We may avoid talking about what happened.

We may become uncomfortable with our own emotions.

We may even begin judging ourselves for still hurting.

But grief doesn’t operate according to somebody else’s timetable.

You cannot simply command your heart to stop grieving.

Grief is often the price we pay for having loved, hoped, trusted, cared, or invested deeply.

And sometimes what the grieving person needs most is not another solution.

They need permission to grieve.

Witnessing Is Different From Fixing

There is a profound difference between witnessing someone’s grief and trying to fix it.

When we try to fix grief, we often say things like:

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“You need to be strong.”

“At least you still have…”

“You will find someone else.”

“Time heals everything.”

These statements may be well-intentioned, but they can sometimes make the grieving person feel that their pain is something that needs to disappear.

Witnessing is different.

Witnessing says:

“I don’t know how to make this better, but I’m willing to sit with you while it hurts.”

It says:

“You don’t have to hide your pain from me.”

It says:

“I see what this has cost you.”

That kind of presence can be profoundly healing.

Sometimes Silence Is the Answer

You don’t always need the right words.

Sometimes the most compassionate thing you can do is sit beside someone and remain present.

Let them cry.

Let them talk.

Let them repeat the same story.

Let them be angry.

Let them be confused.

Let them have a day when they don’t know what they feel.

You don’t have to agree with every emotion.

You don’t have to understand every part of their experience.

You simply have to make space for their humanity.

There is tremendous healing in knowing:

“Someone sees me, and I don’t have to pretend.”

Grief Is Evidence That Something Mattered

Perhaps we need to change the way we think about grief.

Grief is not necessarily a sign that something is wrong with you.

Sometimes grief is evidence that something mattered deeply.

You grieve because you loved.

You grieve because you hoped.

You grieve because you were connected.

You grieve because something had meaning.

The depth of the grief can sometimes reveal the depth of the love.

That doesn’t mean we should romanticize suffering. It means we should stop treating grief as something shameful.

Your grief deserves compassion.

What Can We Give Someone Who Is Grieving?

We can give them our presence.

We can listen without rushing.

We can ask questions without interrogating.

We can allow silence.

We can remember that healing doesn’t happen on our schedule.

And perhaps most importantly, we can resist the temptation to make their grief about our discomfort.

Sometimes we want someone to stop crying because we don’t know what to do with their tears.

But their tears may be exactly what their heart needs.

Let them come.

Let the grief breathe.

Let the person know:

“You are not too much.”

“Your pain doesn’t frighten me.”

“You don’t have to perform strength for me.”

“I am here.”

And If You Are Grieving…

If you are currently grieving, please remember this:

You don’t have to pretend that you’re okay just because everyone else has continued with their lives.

You are allowed to hurt.

You are allowed to miss someone.

You are allowed to mourn what could have been.

You are allowed to have good days and bad days.

You are allowed to laugh again without feeling guilty.

And you are allowed to heal without forgetting.

Healing does not mean that what happened no longer matters.

It means that, slowly, you learn how to carry what happened differently.

Perhaps the first step is finding someone safe enough to witness your grief.

Someone who doesn’t need to fix you.

Someone who doesn’t judge you.

Someone who can simply sit beside you and say:

“I see you.”

“I know this hurts.”

“You don’t have to walk through this alone.”

Because sometimes healing doesn’t begin when the pain disappears.

Sometimes healing begins when we finally stop having to hide the pain.

Grief must be witnessed.

Not because witnessing removes the grief.

But because when our deepest pain is seen and held with compassion, we discover something incredibly important:

We don’t have to carry it alone.

Gerald Crawford in Stellenbosch

Gerald Crawford in Stellenbosch

My Personal Motto Is: With experience and study comes insight with insight come wisdom with wisdom comes moments of absolute clarity, transcendence then follows.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *