The Journey of Grief is Yours

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I’ve stood beside a lot of people in the hours, days, and weeks after someone has died. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this:
Grief doesn’t follow a script.
It doesn’t wear the same face for everyone. It doesn’t arrive on schedule. It doesn’t always look like tears.
Sometimes it’s loud.
Sometimes it’s quiet.
Sometimes it shows up in the car, in the supermarket, or when a song plays out of nowhere.
Grief isn’t a straight line. It’s a personal journey and it belongs to you.
I’ve seen people sob in the front row and I’ve seen people sit in silence, blinking back nothing.
I’ve seen a brother crack jokes at the wake.
I’ve seen a daughter go back to work the next day.
I’ve seen someone cry while folding laundry.
I’ve seen someone feel nothing for days and then fall apart at the sight of an old photo.
None of these are wrong.
They’re just real.
Grief is as unique as the relationship you had with the person. And that relationship might have been close, complicated, distant, joyful, or unfinished.
Sometimes we think, “They don’t seem sad enough.” Or, “They’re taking this too hard.” But we don’t always know what someone’s carrying.
Maybe they’re grieving not just the person, but the things left unsaid.
Maybe they’re holding anger, guilt, or confusion.
Maybe they had a bond so deep that even breathing feels like work now.
Or maybe they’re remembering a relationship that was fractured and their grief is mixed with relief, regret, or nothing at all.
If you’re grieving, here’s what I want you to know:
You don’t need to cry in front of others.
You don’t need to “stay strong.”
You don’t need to move on in a certain timeframe.
You don’t need to grieve how someone else thinks you should.
The journey of grief is yours.
It might be soft or sharp. Quick or slow. Public or private.
However it shows up, it belongs to you. And you don’t have to apologise for it.
We can also show care by not judging how others grieve.
Just because someone laughs at the wake doesn’t mean they didn’t love deeply.
Just because someone sits quietly at the funeral doesn’t mean they’re cold.
Just because someone stays composed doesn’t mean they aren’t falling apart inside.
Grief often hides behind old habits, responsibility, or the need to protect others. Everyone’s trying their best with what they have.
So let’s meet each other with softness, not assumption.
There’s no gold standard for grief.
There’s only the love we carry and the way it changes shape when someone is gone.
Your grief may not look like someone else’s. That doesn’t make it wrong. It makes it yours.
And if you’re walking through that space right now, or supporting someone who is, I hope you’ll remember this:
The journey of grief is deeply human and it doesn’t need to be tidy, quick, or understood by anyone else to be valid.
I’m here if you need someone to talk to.
No pressure. No rules. Just a steady presence, if you want it.

Greg is a funeral director, celebrant, and founder of Your Choice Funerals. With 20+ years of supporting families through life’s most tender moments, Greg believes every farewell should feel true to the person it honours: personal, thoughtful and never rushed.
Sometimes, the hardest part of a funeral isn’t the goodbye itself, it’s figuring out what to say. You’re standing in front of people who are grieving. You’re holding the memory of someone you love. And suddenly, the words don’t come as easily as you thought they might. I see it all the time.
As adults, we often try to shield children from grief. We worry the funeral will be too much. That they won’t understand. It might be better if they stay home, away from all the sadness. But here’s something I’ve seen again and again: Children are far more capable of handling loss than we sometimes give them credit for, especially when they’re gently included, supported, and heard. How we support children through a funeral matters.
When Morgan came to me to plan her dad’s funeral, she had a simple but powerful question: “Do we have to wear black?” It was quiet, almost hesitant, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to ask. But in that one line, I could feel how much love and thought she was already pouring into this farewell.
You’ll also receive the occasional email from Greg offering reflections and gentle guidance.