What to Say When Someone Loses a Loved One

By Amber Chapman

Last edited October 13, 2026

This Week's Theme: What People Say

People mean well. I know they do.

But grief has taught me that "meaning well" and "landing well" are very different things.

This newsletter is going to be really honest. I'm guilty of the same faux pas because I didn't know and in an effort to make everyone around me better and more intentionally aware, I'm going to talk about what to say when someone loses a loved one.

Deep Dive: The Script Nobody Knows

When someone dies, people want to say the right thing. The problem is, there is no right thing. So, instead, they reach for the script, the phrases, we've all inherited without questioning.

"They're in a better place."
"At least they're not suffering anymore."
"Let me know if you need anything."
"They lived a good life."
"Stay strong."

I've even found myself saying some of these things to make moments less awkward.

And I stand there, nodding, saying thank you, while inside I'm thinking: please stop talking. (That could be directed at myself or them depending on who's most awkward at the moment.) I appreciate the sentiment, but it doesn't help.

It's not their fault. We don't teach people how to show up for grief. We hand them clichés and hope for the best.

But I'm learning that when you're the one grieving, the clichés land like tiny paper cuts. Well-meaning, but still painfully unnecessary.

WHAT DOESN'T HELP (EVEN THOUGH THEY MEAN IT)

"Let me know if you need anything."
I won't. I can't. I don't know what I need. And even if I did, I don't have the energy to assign tasks to other people. This phrase puts the burden back on me - and even though that's not your intention, that's what happens.

"They're in a better place."
Maybe. If they know Jesus, I believe that, but that better place isn't here, with me. And right now, here is the only place I want my Dad.

"At least..."
Any sentence that starts with "at least" is trying to minimize the loss. At least it was quick. At least you had time to say goodbye. At least he got as much time as he did. There's no "at least" that makes this smaller.

"Stay strong."
Why? What if I don't want to be strong right now? What if falling apart is the only honest response?

"I know how you feel."
You don't. Even if you've lost someone too, you don't know this loss. Grief isn't generic, nor are relationships trauma, love, etc,

WHAT ACTUALLY HELPS

The things that helped weren't scripts. They were presence.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say."
Honesty and not pretending to have words when there aren't any is refreshing.

"I'm bringing food on Thursday. What time works?"
Don't ask if someone needs help. Just show up with something specific.

"I'm not going to ask how you're doing. Just want you to know I'm thinking about you."
This takes the pressure off performing.

"I loved them too."
Sharing the loss instead of observing it gives us comfort and it also helps us remember that we're not the only person that misses our loved one.

Saying their name and/or sharing a memory.
People get scared to mention the dead, but hearing their name means they're still real and still remembered.

A NOTE ON GRACE

Here's the hard part: people will say the wrong thing, and you'll have to let them.

I know they're not trying to hurt me, they're just reaching for whatever words they have. Most people have never been taught how to navigate grief — theirs or anyone else's.

So I'll continue to nod and say thank you. I'll let them off the hook because I don't have the energy to educate anyone right now.

And that's okay. I don't owe anyone a grief tutorial.

But maybe — later, when I'm ready — I will be the person who says the better thing to someone else. The person who just shows up and doesn't try to fix it.

Final Thought

That's it for this week. People mean well. It still hurts sometimes. Both are true.

Do something intentionally for you this week.