How to grief?

A topic on my radar, since I wanted to prepare myself for the death of my mother. Could I grief, while she still was alive? How would I feel after her death? How to deal with that anxiety? Some answers were sent to me by friends... Advice from Cathy Sanchez Babao (see her text and link below).

What is grief?

Grief work is one of the most difficult tasks we’ll ever face. It’s the quiet labor of trying to live with an absence, of learning to carry the weight of a loved one’s memory without being crushed by it. When we lose someone dear to us, especially to death, it can feel like the air itself has changed—heavier, quieter, strange. Mourning well is not about forgetting or moving on quickly. It’s about learning how to tend to the broken places in ourselves with gentleness. Taking good care of our mind, body, and spirit as we grieve isn’t selfish; it’s essential. It is how we begin, however slowly, to heal.

How to grief? What to do to grief?

1. Make room for your grief—mentally and emotionally.
We often try to stay busy after a loss, hoping distraction will ease the ache. But grief has a way of waiting—it shows up in quiet moments, in sudden tears while folding laundry, or in dreams that feel too vivid. Making space for grief means allowing yourself to feel what you feel without judgment. This could be as simple as setting aside ten minutes a day to journal. Light a candle. Write to the one you lost. Say what you miss, what you’re angry about, what you’re grateful for. Naming our emotions helps the mind make sense of what the heart can barely hold.

2. Move your body, even gently.
Loss can make us feel heavy, lethargic, disconnected. But the body remembers joy, rhythm, breath. Taking care of it during mourning isn’t about rigorous routines—it’s about reconnecting with life through movement. A walk under trees. Ten minutes of stretching in the morning. Swimming, if you can, because water holds us gently. These small acts are ways of saying to your body: I am still here. I still belong to the world.

3. Eat nourishing, simple meals—even when you don’t feel like it.
Grief often steals our appetite or leads us to skip meals entirely. But food is one of the oldest ways we show care—for ourselves and others. When I miss my dad, I eat Spanish food. Paella in particular, connects me to him. Eating feels like a way of staying tethered to love. Just don’t overdo it. Let eating be an act of remembrance, too.

4. Stay connected to life through small rituals.
Grief can make the world feel distant, as though it’s spinning without us. But rituals—however small—anchor us. Watering plants in the morning. Diffusing a favorite scent that reminds you of your loved one before bed. Visiting the grave or offering prayers on death anniversaries. Even talking to a photograph. These gestures tell our spirit: I am still part of something. I still love. I still remember.

How long does grief last?

Grief will not be rushed, cannot be rushed. But neither does it last in the same raw form forever. With time, tears soften. The pain changes shape. There may come a day when you laugh again and feel a flicker of guilt—but let the joy come. It is not a betrayal of love. It is a sign you are healing. To grieve well is not to forget—it is to remember with tenderness, and to live in a way that honors those who are gone. That, too, is a kind of love.

How to find happiness amidst suffering?

When I listened to the podcast of Jennifer Mathews, it helped me also lot to think about her perspective on death. It is different and I found out I made it my own a little as well. What was her perspective? (after the death of her partner): "I found myself experiencing a consistent love, connection and centeredness most of the time. Sure, I let my tears flow freely when they surfaced. Yet more than anything else, I felt profound joy and peace, and I still do to this day. Friends and strangers alike have commented on the level of happiness and acceptance they see in me. Some have been suspicious, assuming I’m in denial. Many others have asked me for my “secret.”

Some answers from her recording:

“I’m often asking myself on a daily basis: Where is my energy focused? Is it on loss or connection? Is it on absence or presence? It truly is for me about the awareness first, and then the choice next. And breaking that cycle of absence.”

“Loss only exists hand in hand with disconnection or absence . . . We know the loss is real, the loss itself isn’t changing. But the experience of the loss is what we can shift.”

“How can we live in the physical world, with physical challenges and physical losses, AND still experience presence, connection and alignment to the bigger part of ourselves? And to the peace and love and joy that exists when we tap into this essence of life?”

The lessons learned are that grief won't leave me, it might change it's form and it is something beautiful (no love, no grief), nothing to be afraid of, I know now...