It’s been just over a year (388 days to be exact) since I first started volunteering as a group facilitator at The Loss Foundation. It seems odd looking back at that first session now, back in the sofa shop in Southwark, how it ended up being the Foundations last face-to-face session, and how far removed it seems from todays reality. I think it would be fair to say there’s not a single person, certainly in the UK, that hasn’t been effected by the pandemic in some way over the last year. Whether it’s through being furloughed, losing a job, moving home, being ill with the virus or losing someone during this time, I would go as far as to say in fact that the pandemic has not only changed our way of living, but also completely redefined our meaning of loss. This redefinition has not only exposed just how vulnerable we are to loss, grief and bereavement, but also how ill equipped we are as individuals and as a society to cope with loss, whether that be in a physical, emotional or metaphorical sense of the word.
With so many people experiencing loss over the last year, not just through loss of life, but also jobs, livelihoods, routines and dreams, one question has gone through my mind repeatedly: how do you support someone experiencing loss, grief and bereavement? After a year of volunteering with The Loss Foundation, and 19 sessions under my belt, I feel as though I may be getting closer to understanding an answer to that question. Space.
Let’s get real for a moment: loss is traumatic. The process of losing a loved one, whether family or friend, is traumatic regardless of the cause of death. The very idea of loss is that it’s something you will never get back, and having to confront that thought, and it’s wide ranging impacts on your life is complex, challenging and will fundamentally change you for ever. And yet, loss is perhaps one of the most essential parts of life. It’s something we will all experience multiple times – so why are we so collectively bad at handling it? Well, that’s a political and structural conversation for another blog, but I will say that until we can have an open conversation about loss, grief and bereavement, both on a personal and collective scale, wider support and understanding will be harder to achieve.
Providing a space for people to come and discuss their loss, grief and bereavement in a non-judgemental way has powers I still struggle to cohesively put into words. There is no magic trick, no clever sentences, in fact most of the volunteer facilitators hardly say a word during the support sessions. And yet, providing that space for people to be able to sit with their loss, acknowledge it and hear from others going through vaguely similar things seems to have, at times, overwhelming effects on those who decide to join the sessions.
So what is it about this space that seems to work so well? Firstly, as mentioned in the title, providing a safe space for people to come and be present with their loss is often the first frontier, or the first step that many take towards getting help with their grief. For many people that attend The Loss Foundation sessions their grief is still very raw, especially with the coronavirus loss groups. For others, they may have felt like they “dealt” with their grief in the period after loss, to only find it rear its head again a few years later. Therefore, providing a space where people can come, express their thoughts and feelings regardless of how culturally taboo, difficult to hear or hard to express they may be without fear of judgement is often the first step towards accessing wider support.
Secondly, in a world where physical connection is so limited, social and emotional connection has never been more important. Emotional connection is what makes us human, and being able to connect with others whilst going through traumatic events is one of the most useful ways of preventing the trauma from having a severe impact on the individual in the long term. One of the only silver linings of the pandemic is that it has forced organisations like The Loss Foundation to innovate, adapt and change with the circumstances. Sure, online support sessions will never be truly the same as face-to-face sessions, but in opening that avenue of care up, the Foundation has taken an enormous step towards reducing the postcode lottery of bereavement support and has helped to offer the simplest, yet most vital lifeline to thousands of individuals trying to cope with their loss. I strongly believe, and deeply hope that these changes will be permanent in some way, and look forward to seeing how the Foundation continues to adapt, innovate and change in the coming months and years.
I wanted to end this blog in a similar way to how I ended the first blog post I wrote for The Loss Foundation a few months ago: with some common themes of the sessions, how you can help support people coping with loss, and how you can support yourself if you’re in need.

Common Themes:
- Guilt: Perhaps one of the sentences I have heard the most during the last year with The Loss Foundation is “I feel guilty for feeling this way”. Often, attendees of the group sessions express their feelings of anger, and even jealousy towards their friends who may not be experiencing the same grief or loss as them. Despite the shame and guilt that is normally attached to these feelings, many people fail to understand just how common and how valid these thoughts and feelings are. Wishing other people could experience what you are experiencing does not make you a bad person. In a world not designed to manage loss, it can be hard to process feelings of grief when we’re constantly reminded of how others may not be experiencing the same thing. Feelings of jealousy or anger do not mean you genuinely wish harm on others, but are more often a reflection of the acuteness of your loss and the difficulty we all have in trying to reach out for help. Often, simply expressing these thoughts and feelings in a non-judgemental space is one of the best ways to put them to rest, and you may be surprised just how many other people listening also feel the same way.
- None of my relationships are the same: Loss always creates change. When there’s a gap in our life we naturally try to fill it, so it’s understandable that this shake up can create friction with our relationships in our lives. A frequently recurring theme in the support sessions I have attended has been one of difficulty navigating relationships, whether family, friend or professional after losing someone. Perhaps you lost a parent, and now feel the need to step in to the “mother figure” role. Perhaps you lost a friend who was like the glue holding your friendship group together, and now have to be the one to ensure that group doesn’t fall apart. Whoever you have lost, the tension that exploring these new relationships can cause often leaves people frustrated, angry and even more acutely aware of their loss. Perhaps one of the hardest things to do in this situation is acknowledge that those relationships have changed forever. This is hard both because you are adding an additional loss of the relationship you had before, but also because you are then accepting the reality of the loss you originally experienced. In these situations, what I have heard suggested by group members is to be open. Talk to those people you are struggling to forge a new relationship with and name the problem. Acknowledging this will help both parties to understand where the issue is. Secondly, give yourself time. Loss, grief and bereavement have enormous impacts on our life, and trying to process all of those impacts at once is impossible. Give yourself time and space to work through things when you feel ready.
- I can’t remember the happy memories: Something i’ve heard mentioned a few times recently is this inability to remember the happy memories of the person that has died, whether that’s because the memories are too painful to bring up at the moment, or because the trauma of the loss was so acute that it has blocked all other memories out. Whilst this is a completely common feature of trauma and loss, it is also worth noting that these issues have been particularly accentuated during the pandemic, where many of us have been shut off at home, left with intrusive thoughts and no distractions, or reminded of the trauma of loss through the news etc. Sadly, there is no quick fix to this. Many group attendees say how it took them a long time to be able to think of the happy memories they have of their loved one. What I would say is though, that even though it may take time, it will happen at some point. Some people find the process of sorting through their loved one’s possessions useful in helping this process, others find it useful to speak to friends and family about their own memories. Others find it useful to just give themselves time and space until they are ready to go back in to their own memories. What I would say is this: remember you haven’t lost the memories of that person, or the experiences you had with them. They will always be there for you, whether in your head, in your home with possessions or with your friends if they also have cherished memories. Allow yourself time and space and try not to rush into remembering happy memories, it’s an individual process that takes time.

How you can help:
- Listen: Just listening can be an amazing way of supporting someone going through bereavement and loss. Try not to be judgemental, and try not to tell people how they should or should not be feeling. Loss is an individual thing, we each manage it and approach it in different ways. So long as the person is safe, allow them the opportunity to figure out how they wish to manage their loss.
- Put the person first: Some people like to be asked about their loved one, some people don’t. Some people like to talk in detail about their feelings, some people don’t. It may seem hard at first, and we often jump to cliched phrases like “sorry for your loss” and “let me know if you need anything”, but actually sitting with the person and asking them what you can do to help, or whether there’s anything they would like you to avoid doing, can make a world of difference.
- Be sensitive: Anniversary’s, special days and other life events can be challenging for those who are grieving. Be sensitive about their feelings. Ask them first if it’s ok to post that picture of their mum on what would have been her birthday, check in to see how they’re doing (this should be all the time, but at the very least when you know difficult life events are upcoming), and respect their opinions and wishes if they ask you not to do something. We all process grief in a different way, and most of the time our actions of support come from a place of love. But in many instances our actions can make those occasions even harder for those people, so just be sensitive. And if you’re in any doubt: ask that person.

How you can help yourself:
- Be kind to yourself: Need that day off work? Take it. Need to speak to a professional? Call them. Need a break from other people? Take it. Whatever it is (so long as it’s safe) that makes you happy and brings a bit of self-kindness to your life, try and do it. Loss is traumatic, therefore you need to be even more proactive in looking after yourself wherever possible.
- Reach out: Ask for help. Whether it’s through the Samaritans (116 123), The Loss Foundation, or any other support services, know that you’re not alone. There is so much help out there, you just need to reach out and grab it. This is unbelievably hard to do, but please know that there are people who care that are ready to help!
- Be honest: If you don’t feel able to have a conversation with someone on that day: tell them. If someone has done something that has upset you: tell them. Having honest conversations with people is often the best way to clear up what are normally just misunderstandings. So long as everyone remains as calm as possible, being open and honest about your feelings can be a massive relief both to you, and often to those around you. None of us really know how to talk about death, we’re not taught it and it’s not part of our cultural makeup. But being open and honest, regardless of how uncomfortable that may feel in the moment, can help others to understand how you’re feeling and how they can better support you.

Whilst this last year has taught me a lot, I do not even slightly pretend to know everything about loss and grief, but I hope, through attending more sessions at The Loss Foundation that that understanding will grow. As ever, I want to thank all my fellow volunteers and friends at The Loss Foundation, and all the attendees of the group sessions. Your ability to be open and honest about your grief has taught me more than any psychology book could, and I am extremely grateful.
Disclaimer: Please note, all the opinions written in this blog are my own and therefore The Loss Foundation is in no way accountable for what is written.















