The Shape of Grief: A Conversation on Loss

By: Spandana Jampani

Dying, death, loss, and grief are inevitable parts of life but why is it so difficult to truly come to terms with them?

My own perspective has been shaped mostly by books and films. I’ve only ever witnessed grief through fictional characters, and touchwood. I hope it stays that way, but to understand it more deeply, I spoke with someone who experienced a life-altering, unforeseen catastrophe, the sudden loss of a loved one. What they shared helped me begin to grasp how grief feels, how it lingers, and why coping is anything but linear.

Hearing the news, so many metaphors suddenly come alive, the sand sinking between your feet, the feeling of your heart actually breaking, a slow, cold hand grasping at you, making you go numb. All this while, news like this was just something that happened to other people. You never want to, or try to, put yourself in their place. When it happens to you, it's complete denial you just don’t want to accept the truth. You get angry at the situation, at the person who died, even though there’s no one you can truly blame. That anger turns inward and there is a constant  train of thought  thinking What could I have done differently? You try to find an answer that will somehow to satisfy yourself. 

Since it’s not something you physically experience, grief becomes a mental burden and that’s much harder to carry. You know the person isn’t here anymore, but talking about them feels selfish, like you’re not allowed to want them back because maybe they’re in a better place now. Still, a piece of you is missing. It’s like heartbreak, but deeper. You go hollow. You move through life like a ghost ,like you're moving through life with just skin left.                   Expected deaths are much easier to deal with. You find the closure you need. It gives your mind some peace, a reason to hold onto, a kind of clarity to understand their passing. But with a sudden death, the unfairness of it all is too much. You torture yourself trying to understand. You think that if you just get an answer, it will bring closure but the answer never comes.                                                                                                                                

Grief also brings confusion. You don’t understand why you’re reacting the way you are. Some people seem to move on faster, but even if you want to function, you just can’t. And when others expect you to ‘step up’ or go back to normal, it feels overwhelming. You’re barely hanging on. You don’t want to face it, so you run from it just to avoid feeling. But it always catches up in dreams, in small, quiet moments. And suddenly, your life changes and you inherit responsibilities you weren’t ready for. It all shifts overnight

Coping with it is a whole other whirlwind. Talking about it is hard, saying it out loud makes it real. Even if people are willing to listen, actually processing it is much harder. It just sits there, like a heavy rock in your chest.Even if you’re trying to move on, that rock doesn’t go away. It’s hard to ignore it makes itself known in every moment, in nightmares, in the way you carry yourself. And to deal with that weight, some people turn to addictions, just to cope.                                                 

Some don’t have the luxury of grieving; it's not always a comfortable space to be in, especially when responsibilities pile up. Life doesn’t pause. You have to keep moving, and that’s the hardest part. Avoidance becomes the go-to coping mechanism, but it’s just a temporary fix. You can make a plan, try to follow it, but in the end, the only thing that truly heals is time. Slowly, day by day, the grief becomes a smaller part of your life less all-consuming than it once was. You might think you’re over it, and then something small breaks you again. That’s when the healing starts when the event no longer defines every thought.Therapy helps, but being around people who’d experienced similar loss was what truly made a difference. People often sugarcoat things, but blunt, honest truths no matter how harsh are what really help. That’s what allows you to move forward. Sugarcoating doesn’t aid healing; raw truth does.

I personally don’t think I’ve done much to help her, although she says I did. All I really offered was company during her silence, warm beverages, fun conversations, and pleasant memories. Most importantly, I gave her time because time truly heals.