THE FACES OF GRIEF: Why losses you can鈥檛 see hurt the most
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I鈥檝e got bad news: Everyone you love is going to die. So are you. Just as night follows day, death follows life, and none of us escape it. Death equals grief, and grief equals pain. But grief isn鈥檛 loyal to death. It wears many faces, creeping into our lives in ways we don鈥檛 always recognize. As the year draws to a close, it鈥檚 natural to reflect on what鈥檚 happened. And when it comes to grief, sometimes the losses we can鈥檛 see hurt the most.
My first experience of grief was when my grandad died. I remember my mom curled up on his bed crying as she buried her nose in his dressing gown, desperately clinging to the last of his scent. Years later, I found myself doing the same when my nana passed.
We learn how to grieve, not only from family members but from the cultural norms around us.
In Britain, we wear black and light candles in memory of our dead, whereas in China, mourning is often marked by white. In Mexico, D铆a de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) is a celebration with altars, marigolds and offerings, but in Japan, Obon is a solemn, reflective time. In Ghana, funerals can last for days, filled with feasts, dancing and community celebrations. Meanwhile, in the Himba tribe of Namibia, mourning involves seclusion, with family members cutting their hair to signal their loss. In India, people gather along the Ganges River to cremate loved ones, while in Aboriginal Australia, 鈥渟orry business鈥 incorporates storytelling, art and communal rituals.
These ceremonies provide structure and closure, a way of anchoring ourselves in grief. But what happens when loss doesn鈥檛 fit neatly into a framework?
Death aside, there are plenty of ways we lose in life. We lose faith, trust, health and wealth. Sometimes we lose ourselves. We mourn when we cut ties, move home or leave a dream behind.
I鈥檝e mourned a lot this year, much of it I鈥檓 still making sense of. I鈥檝e mourned things I鈥檝e done and things I鈥檝e not done. People I鈥檝e hurt and people I鈥檝e lost. I鈥檝e mourned things I鈥檝e missed and things I鈥檝e had too much of. Most of all, I鈥檝e mourned the time in which I slowly slipped away from myself. Being that far from my core, in ways I can鈥檛 fully articulate, is a grief I can鈥檛 describe. But it does have a name.
Ambiguous loss describes grief that doesn鈥檛 get a ceremony. Coined by psychologist Pauline Boss, it refers to losses that lack closure 鈥 losses where the lines between absence and presence blur.
For Stephen, it was redundancy. 鈥淚t鈥檚 not just the job I grieve; it鈥檚 a version of myself 鈥 someone with purpose and a steady path. I question who I am without it. I feel a bit lost, like a ship adrift at sea.鈥
Emily has watched her father fade piece by piece as Alzheimer鈥檚 erases him from the inside out. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a grief that comes in waves,鈥 she said. 鈥淪ome days, I see the person I once knew, but other days, he鈥檚 not there at all. It鈥檚 a loss that never feels complete, just ongoing.鈥
And for Peter, leaving the city he loved meant leaving part of himself behind. 鈥淪hanghai was home for so long that leaving closed a chapter in my life. I鈥檓 excited for what鈥檚 next, but there鈥檚 an ache in letting go of everything familiar.鈥
These quieter, less visible forms of grief linger in the background of every life. Ambiguous loss doesn鈥檛 announce itself with rituals or goodbyes, so we struggle to acknowledge it. But it鈥檚 every bit as real as the grief we face when someone dies. In some ways, it鈥檚 worse. We know what it looks like to lose a loved one, but not everyone will understand the significance of whatever unseen thing we鈥檙e missing. That鈥檚 lonely.
There鈥檚 hope. By recognizing ambiguous loss in our own lives, we honor our pain and the hidden pain of others. Grief isn鈥檛 just about death. It鈥檚 about change, love and life itself. None of which are easy. If we accept our shared grief, we can create a shared space to heal.
Even from losses we cannot see.
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